#as everyone went to class i was still wondering where the hell to go

[sugarverse]

Hiii! I was wondering if I could request either long or short fic about Tenya Iida. Likes it can be set in a modern setting where's he's a senior college student who's majoring in business and he has to take one more class to get his degree. It just so happened that the class is in the art building, and it is figure drawing (aka nude drawing) . Since he's just now hearing of the extra class he has to take, he's suddenly shocked when the model is an old friend of his from back home, whom he had a childhood crush on. Not only does his feelings for her come back, but he also has to have 1 on 1 section with the model for educational purposes. I kinda want it to be smut and fluff or however you see it fit. Anyway, I hope it's enough+

hi babe! omg I love this idea I kinda went a lil crazy and made it way too long. I hope u enjoy :)!!

𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙣 𝙏𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧

word count: 3.5k

mentions of: This is really just the fluff portion of it, kinda suggestive bc he pops a boner and leads to sex in part two. I think I’m going to make a third part simply so the two of you can go on a genuine date andsotheresmoreiidaxblackreaderouthere.

a/n: hells yeah that’s enough, hopefully I did what ya asked and so sorry I went overboard I have serious problems. here’s the smut part bc a 6.7k fic is doing too damn much but i can’t stfu my fault gang

moodboard here!

Tenya Iida.

4th year, Senior in college majoring in International Business and minoring in Spanish at Angelwood College of Arts and Sciences.

The visual arts building had only been a few minutes away from the business side of campus, which he gladly enjoyed the walk. This spring all he needed to finish was two gen ed classes, the rest revolved around his major and minor. His counselor helped set up his ‘missing’ classes before winter break considering he had to fly back to Japan to see his family for the holidays. He was ecstatic to learn all he needed was an art class with lab and a communications class. 

When he asked what the class entailed, all he was met with was “beginner artists learning anatomy.” It didn’t sound difficult, just draw what you see. It would be nice to try something new anyway. He was not much of an artist but like all things Tenya does, he planned to give this class his all. The first week had been pretty easy, learning how to draw what you see with the use of models, shapes, and lines. Nothing too hard to follow. He would practice drawing his friends on the sketchpad he bought specifically for the class as a form of studying in the free time he had.

He neverminded it for the most part, excelling his knowledge in different countries in his free time to get better at his major. Sure they could teach you the technical way to do things, but in the end, everyone is still human. It would be inconsiderate to do business with a country and know little to nothing about their culture! It took almost two weeks for him to finally be able to even start the art project anyway.

As time went on and the January snow grew less and less, it was time to start their first real project of the semester. One on One figure drawing. The class needed to fill out a form explaining their free hours due to the limited art space and everyone's different schedules. Tenya happily filled it out when it was posted, continuing to work on class work from the library so that the lecture room could also be used for said project.

Their professor had explained that in-person class would remain on Mondays and Thursdays. It just worked out better for the models and students to have so much space.

He made the small walk over to the arts building for his last class of the day, a small shine in his glasses as he entered the white light of the room. The walls were anything but bare, artwork and unfinished projects sat in every corner of the room. Paint racks, canvases big and small, even stacks of unused clay. There was a stool sitting on a small platform in the middle of the room, assuming where the model will sit. 

He stood next to the stool for a moment, looking up at the grey February sky through the skylight. The natural lighting was great, almost like a spotlight. He adjusted the lights in the room a moment, dimming them slightly so the white light hadn’t been so harsh on his eyes. He headed over to a more organized table, setting out the art supplies how he liked. He knew he was early, but he wanted to make a good first impression. What’s better than being on time?

He pulled out his laptop, checking that the few assignments for today were done and submitted. A small frown tugged at his lips as he realized he hadn’t finished something completely, typing in the last few answers. He always double checked, technology was reliable.. When it wanted to be. He couldn’t hear the shuffle of slippers against the floor over his typing and frankly, loud thinking. 

He could see someone walk past in a teal robe representing the university's colors. Glancing up from the computer to give the model a proper hello, Tenya opens his mouth to speak but pauses. 

“Y/n?” He asked, almost in a whisper in case he was wrong. A small look of confusion caused him to tilt his head to the side slightly. He hadn’t been able to see you for awhile with such busy schedules, but he knew your silhouette by heart. 

You turn at the sound of your name, mid sliding off the slippers and fumbling with the gold silk of the belt. “Tenya?” You smile, asking as you turn to slide your shoes back on and quickly shuffle your way over to him. He felt his face burn red, frozen in place for a moment with his jaw slack. He stood as if needing to detach from the seat, smiling at your happy demeanor and your quickness to wrap your arms around him. 

“It is you! I know those shoulders from anywhere!” You beamed, feeling his hovering hands slowly place themselves on your back to return the hug. He was very hesitant, simply because you were only in a robe. You pull away, hands resting on your hips and giving him a big smile. “Now what are you doin’ taking a figure drawing class, Mister businessman?”

He let out a sheepish chuckle, “I needed an art credit, W-What are u doing here?” He never had any classes with you at Angelwood, A few honors classes and gym in highschool but other than that, nada. Throughout the course of growing up, your interests drove you to different classes. 

However, classes don't matter when your families are as close as yours and the Iida family. Shared Holidays, playdates, game nights.. It wasn’t like you were some stranger. You both always made time to hang out a few times during the year to catch up without the family just to give a real check on each other. It was his favorite, almost like a mini holiday to talk to you.

He loved spending time with you. You were smart, articulated and incredibly creative. You never took slack from anyone.. Even in middle school he can remember you being the one to stand up and say something when things weren’t right. You were headstrong and determined in anything that you did.. Art majors always get a lot of grief but you never let that deter you. And that was admirable in itself! ..And he had always thought you were so pretty. 

He felt like a kid again, heart feeling as if it’d beat out of his chest at the mere sight of you. It had been around Halloween the last time he saw you, and here it was. Almost Valentine's day.. Still as pretty and bright as he remembered. Your next hangout wasn't for another month or so, so it was nice to see you sooner than that.

“I'm your model, silly!” You head over to the stool, continuing to speak. “The art department asked if I’d help in modeling and I said yes! People were too scared to sign up for the most part. I’m surprised this is the class you picked. Did you want to learn how to draw people?” You slide your slippers off once more, untying the cute bow on your hip that held your robe shut. 

Suddenly the room was very hot and he couldn't breathe. Now his heart really WAS beating out of his chest. He quickly did a 180, shielding his eyes and removing his glasses for extra measure. “WHY– do yoU have.. nothing on underrrrneath?” He croaked, voice cracking as his tone raised slightly.

You tilt your head at such a question, the gears clicking a little later than they should have. “Figure drawing is um.. Nude drawing, Tenya. You didn't know that?” You slide the robe back on, giggling at the flustered man across from you. You could see his shoulders tense, shaking his head slowly.

Now how the fuck could he have missed that.

“I um.. No, I didn't. I thought that it was.. I don't know what I thought. My counselor picked it for me and I.. Most models we've used so far have.. had skin colored undergarments… On.” He let out a nervous laugh, keeping his glasses off. He turns around, cleaning them with the end of his shirt but refusing to look up at you. He needed to mentally prepare his brain to be professional in a situation like this. Not that he minded the glance, he just never thought this would be how..

You prop your feet onto the edge of the stool, interrupting his thought. You held your knees up to your chest so he couldn’t see anything but your bare legs. “Oh Ten, I’m sorry! I can ask someone else to-”

“No! I am perfectly.. capable. It's professional and I can be.. professional..” He put his glasses back on, hand refusing to be steady as he did so. He let out a shaky sigh, smiling at you and finally looking at you once more.

You let out a small laugh at the blush on his cheeks. He was so handsome, but to see him so flustered over little ol’ you? It made your week. “We can start slow, that might help.” you slide the robe down your shoulders, slowly putting your legs back down so he could see your robed torso once more. You stopped at the top of your breasts, letting your collarbone show. “Do you have any specific poses..?” You ask quietly, trying to hold back your amusement.

He sits down, red faced and completely flushed. A nude model.. jeez. From sleepovers to recess, studying together to graduating, and now almost graduating for the final time together. That's something you don’t get to have in every lifetime. But why do these thoughts keep coming back to him now? 

There was no way he could still have romantic feelings for you. He’d never put your friendship at risk like that!

..right?

“I um.. yeah, small.” He cleared his throat, “Could you um.. Could you stand slightly off of the um.. Almost like getting up?” He fumbled over his words, staring at the empty paper as if he could burn the quick image in his brain onto the page to get the embarrassment over with. He sighed once more, trying to focus as he began sketching circles and lines as a starter sketch of the pose he wanted.

“When you need to draw a certain part I'll move it, Sound fair?” You ask, resting one foot onto the stool and one onto the ground. Your hand gripped the seat as your butt sat on the edge, similar to when people do that supposedly hot thing where they throw their head back and pull some weird rope to have water get poured on them. 

It was second nature at this point for people to see you. Of course some of them were flustered and it was pretty awkward at first, but normally not to the point of stuttering and stammering. It wasn’t often that you saw Tenya fall apart, but this was way different. Especially considering you flashed him without warning. He was one of the most endearing people you had ever met, there was no way you would have done that without proper context.

He could only nod in response, not wanting to further make a fool of himself. Lightly tapping the pencil against the table, He looks up at you. “You can um.. re.. remove the top part, y/n..” It was hard to simply draw your arms and collarbone without including the robe, so you might as well rip the band-aid off and start with the top. 

You nod, dropping it happily and letting the robe pull around your hips and between your legs. You close your eyes, facing up toward the skylight in an attempt to make him less nervous. “Sorry for flashing you at first, I would have explained but I assumed you had already known..?” You laugh quietly to yourself at your own mistake. Why would someone like him even take this class if he knew what it actually entailed?

And God, did he feel like a pervert staring at your chest like this. The boner poking his thigh almost immediately didn't help, making it even harder to concentrate. Way to keep composure. He pressed his lips together for a moment before speaking. “I had no idea, I’m sorry for my r..reaction.” He answered, stopping the pencil tapping to actually begin sketching more than just circles and lines. He hadn’t meant to yell, but he felt like he was close to passing out. 

“I think it was a pretty valid one.” You send a reassuring smile his way, seeing him send you one right back. Trying to ease the mood, you look back up at the ceiling and close your eyes to avoid staring at the ugly overcast sky above you. “How was winter break? You get to go home and see your family? How are they?” 

His smile grew wider at your question, scooting under the desk a bit more so that you hopefully wouldn’t notice his body reacting. “They’re great, Tensei is getting married soon,” He sounded excited at the thought alone, incredibly proud of his brother. 

“And my mother has started a hobby making soap, if you can believe it. She sent me some to bring back one that smells like lavender and another that smells like oranges mixed with I believe she said papaya.? She made a coconut smelling one for you– I was going to give it to you the next time we saw each other,” 

The sound of his sketching stopped and started as he spoke, giving your body small glances as he tried to study each part of your upper torso. The way your stomach creased, The way your shoulder was slightly lifted causing your collarbone to be more prominent, the curve of your breasts.. “How was your Holiday, y/n?”

“No way, Tensei is getting married?!” You accidentally stop posing, fully facing him in genuine shock. The robe was still covering your lower half, you had tied the belt to avoid accidentally flashing him again but here we are. You watch his face become even more red, eyes very obviously not meeting yours but still like a deer in headlights. 

You quickly get back to posing how you were, “Sorry Ten, That's amazing!! I hope everything goes smoothly for him and his soon to be wife.. And tell your mommy I said thank you for thinking of me. I can't wait to try it!”

A smile stayed on your lips as you thought about the times you’ve spent in the Iida household. His mother always had the best candles and incense burning, you were positive the soap would be the same. “My family is up to the same old shit, you know them..” You let out a small groan, the holidays weren’t an absolute disaster, but after not being home so long makes you remember why you aren’t going to school anywhere near home. 

“I did get some cool stuff for Christmas though! I got some new clothes and they got me a few art kits. You know, where it teaches you how to crochet? I also have a new diamond painting kit, I haven't opened either yet because it's just been so busy.” You replied, tapping your fingers on the side of the stool where your hand sat. 

You look up once more, this time because the skylight was beginning to be covered in snow. You watched as it fell, thinking back to old times when you and Tenya would spend the last three major holidays with each other. You’d always make sure to trick or treat together, your families have been sharing Thanksgiving for as long as you can remember, and spending the night in your basement on Christmas eve to wait for Santa until you were both too old. Then instead of waiting for Santa, you’d all eat at least one meal together on Christmas day. Sometimes homemade breakfast, other times a small trip to IHOP or Waffle House.

“God damn it.. It’s snowing again..” You let out a small laugh, looking over at him over your shoulder, fingers still tapping away at the base of the stool. “Hey Ten, Do you remember when we used to have those big snowball fights? The one near Red Fern?” 

“Of course I do! You refused to wear any kind of gloves and my mother would make you at least put socks on your hands so you didn’t get frostbite!” The two of you shared a small laugh at the memories of being young and dumb.

“Gloves always made my hands too itchy! They still do– But I kicked your ass in snowball fights with gloves or not.” You retort, a smirk appearing on your face. “Ice queen y/n of everything.” You could remember the insane snowball fights the neighborhood kids would have every. time. It snowed. If there was enough to make a few snowballs, there was enough to start a war. Tenya was always on your team, but it never stopped you from throwing a few his way. The ‘winner’ was King or Queen of the hill and first to sled down, which often enough was you.

“Remember when you almost broke my glasses throwing one right at my face?” He snickered, watching your smirk turn into a small pouty frown. He knew you didn’t mean to, that same day you helped your mom make cookies for him and his family as an apology, even though he wasn’t upset to begin with. But you knew it could have broken his glasses and you would be devastated if you were the reason for it. You were a real sweetheart, even if you had a weird way of showing sometimes.

“Hey! You know that wasn’t on purpose, I felt really bad after! I even let you get me back!” Which was true, but he never aimed for your face. Always a spot on your fluffy coat, never your legs because you hated your pants being wet… and a face shot just felt wrong to him. 

“Yeah, Yeah. I remember that part too,” He smiled to himself. “Those were really good times.. I remember Tensei always bringing us hot chocolate and we’d sit on your porch and draw things in the snow..”

“Oh! And when we’d come back all wet and mom already had spare clothes in her hands because she didn’t want it on the carpet. We’d put on too big clothes just to sit and watch Christmas movies..” You missed those times. But they never really had to stop, you two could have a huge snowball fight after this if you wanted to and the snow stuck. Was he too grown for that? Would it even sound fun to him?

“Do you still watch A Year Without Santa Clause every year?” He asks, breaking your train of thought. You nodded quickly at his question, grinning like a maniac. “Of course I do! And I watch Charlie Brown’s Christmas, Rudolph The Rednosed Reindeer.. And sometimes Spongebob's Christmas Special. Do you still watch old Christmas cartoons?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Don’t wanna ruin tradition.” He answered, pressing his lips together slightly as he stared down at the paper. You can tell he freezes a bit, the sound of his scribbling coming to a stop. He set the pencil down, rubbing the sweat of his hands onto his thighs.

 “You can um.. remOove-..” He quickly cleared his throat, “The rest.” He let out a disappointed sigh at his inability to keep composure. This wouldn't be half the problem it was if it was someone else modeling. But this is you we're talking about. 

“You sure? If you need a minute we can take a break, honey.” You gave him a sympathetic look, still smiling but this time more.. warm. The kind of smile someone gives to another when they genuinely care for them. Or love them for that matter. He adored it, it was the same smile you'd give him when saying he needs to take a break, the same smile you give him when the two of you out to get coffee and catch up. The same smile he's fallen for many, many times. 

But to tell you the truth? It’s driving him crazy. All of this. Was driving him crazy. No matter how hard he tried to be professional, he could stop his wandering mind. You were a goddess. What else was there to do besides take a break and hopefully release some steam in the bathroom or something. Completely inappropriate, but the pain from being hard for so long was starting to cloud the best judgment. 

He looks down at the sketch so far, then back to you as he rubbed his hand upward against his face. It pushed his glasses up, causing them to be crooked when going back down. “I um.. I think I do.. need a minute.” His voice died out as he watched you slide the robe back on, words failing him because couldn’t think completely straight.

© if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot and helps me out. Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

thank you @thecutestgrotto for the banners and thank you @fizzintine for coloring the top pic!

have a good day/night/whatever!

[petew21-blog]

Homophobic gym teacher, part 2

I was almost afraid to go to sleep after fucking Jake last night. He went off back home with a sore ass. No wonder when Mr. Mills’s dick is so huge, he’s extremely hung! I am now, hehe.

So yeah, I was afraid that we might switch back. And guess what?! Fuck yeah we didn’t. Shut, I’m already thinking more swear words than before, guess that must be a side effect of being in Mr. Mills’s body. Or of having such a huge body!

Oh man, I freaking love the pecs. I don’t know if I’d rather keep this body or be someone else to enjoy this body from a different point of view. It sure is a big change from my regular body. I wonder how Mr. Mills is doing in mine. Screw that idiot, I’ll enjoy a lot of him today at school. Gotta start the morning right first!

I pulled the briefs and set free my new manhood, already semi-hard

After enjoying a nice jerk-off session, for the first time in my life just appreciating my body, I went to the shower to clean myself off.

I have to find a way to stay in this body, this is something that I just can’t give up.

I stood naked in the bathroom, watching my reflection. Doing poses. I got a bit curious. I searched and found a tape measure. “Let’s see how big you really are.” I jerked it a bit to get hard again, which didn’t take me long. “Holy shit… Daddy is hung!”

Suddenly my phone vibrated. Unknown number. It was a text from Jake.”Are you still him?”

I called him on facetime. “Sup fag.”

Jake:”Dude, you’re still in his body! That is so amazing!”

Me:”How is your ass?”

Jake:”Hurts like hell, but definitely worth it. I can’t wait to see you again.”

Me:”We gotta be careful around Mills and others, ok?”

Jake:”But what if I’ll be too horny? I tasted blood and I want moooore!”

Me:”Can’t get enough of these bad boys?” I said and flexed.

Jake:”Oh man. I wanna tell everyone that Mills fucked me. Wait… is that tape measurei n your hand? You dirty bastard. So how big is it?” Me:”Almost nine freaking inches! Crazy right?!”

Jake:”Yeah, my ass agrees.”

A text from my number came:”Pick me up in 15 minutes”

Me:”Fuck, it’s Mills. He wants me to pick him up. He probably wants to talk about what we’re gonna do at school.”

Jake:”Dude, you’re gonna have to teach!”

I froze. Fuck, Mills is a teacher. Yeah, he teaches PE, but he also teaches healthcare sometimes.

Me:”What am I gonna do? I don’t know anything that Mills does. What if they figure it out?”

Jake:”Don’t worry they won’t. They’ll just think that Mills didn’t sleep well today.”

Me:”Ok, maybe he’ll tell me what to do. See you soon.”

Jake:”See you, daddy” Jake responded, winking.

I looked at myself in the mirror. So far I could only enjoy the fruits of this swap. Now came the hard part. Pretending to be the other person.

I saw my muscles again. God how beautiful I am now. Like a Greek god. I flexed my biceps and snapped a photo for later.

Time to head out.

I picked up Mr. Mills already waiting at the curb in front of my house looking frustrated.

He got in the car without saying anything first.

Mills:”Just drive”

Me:”Where? The school doesn’t start for another hour.”

Mills:”I’ll tell you how to pretend to be me.” he said in a bored, emotionless tone

Me:”Are you ok?”

Mills:”Of course I’m not fucking ok. I lost my hot body to an alien student. How the fuck do you think I feel?!”

I stopped the car. This crossed a line. “Look. I’m not the one who caused this, but if you’re gonna keep on with that racist bullshit, I’m gonna destroy your life, understand? Not only will I get you fired, but I’ll make you a gay pornstar. Besides, do you see you muscles? I’ll beat your ass. Maybe you haven’t noticed, but you’re not caucasian now, so maybe all of this is just a lesson for you to be more empathetic. So do not tempt me! Understand?!”

Mills had fear plastered all over his face. No one probably threatened him in years. He responded quietly:”Understand.”

I kept on driving. We stopped at the parking lot in front of school. I gave him some brief info about my classes and told him to mostly stick to Jake, not to stand out and not to swear. He then told me what classes he had today and for the healthcare lessons he instructed me to play a movie. Easy. We decided to meet afterschool in the gym. We’d try to switch back.

He left the car right after Jake arrived. Mills looked puzzled from my monologue before and Jake probably noticed. They were walking towards school. Jake turned his head at me and winked. As a reward I flashed him a biceps flex and smiled.

The PE was pretty easy. I just used a whistle, kept on encouraging them and tried not to scream. Some of the students that were usually scared to even enter the room looked more comfortable today.

But the healthcare classes started horribly. The first class was supposed to be about healthy diet and exercise. The movie that Mills recommended wasn’t available, so I had to improvise. Then I figured I could turn this around. I picked four guys in the class who I knew were gym rats. I took off my shirt and started flexing in front of them. I instructed one of them to come and point at the muscles and the class had to name the muscles. How interactive of me, right? Maybe I should consider being a teacher. Most of the class was amused and I even saw one girl taking a quick photo of me.

I thought that everything went smoothly, until I was called into the principal’s office. Yes, me. As Mr. Mills.

I entered the room.

Principal:”Hello, Carl. Sit down, please.”

I did as instructed and watched the principal unsure what was about to happen.

Principal:”Carl, I’m gonna give you one last chance ok.”

Me:”What do you mean?”

Principal:”It’s one thing that you’re screaming at the students, calling them out for their sexual orientation or personal beliefs. I even protected you when the students came to tell me you were hitting on the older students. But today a student came to me to show me a photo of you, shirtless in the class, showing off in front of them. What were you thinking?”

Me:”We were supposed to talk about exercise. I felt that showing the groups of muscles would be interactive and motivational.”

Principal:”That’s not how the mothers of these students will see it. They think you are preying on them. Begging me to fire you.”

Me:”I don’t know what to say.”

Principal:”Don’t say anything. Just don’t make me do the worst. This is your last chance. Leave.”

I left the office feeling kinda bad and angry at Mills. Hitting on students at school? What was he thinking? Yeah I fucked Jake last night, but that’s something different. I’ll have to be more careful from now on.

I met Mills at the gym. We tried recreating the moment, but besides a few bruises, nothing happened. Mills even cried for a moment.

I suggested that he could show me how to work out in his body so that I would maintain his routine. This seemed to get him excited.

Working out at the gym was pretty easy. This body is really strong and used to all of this. It even started to feel good and fun, as if exercising regularly didn’t have to necessarily be painful and boring.

Mills left to go to the bathroom. I snapped a quick photo after posing in the mirror.

Mills:”We said no photos!”

Me:”Yeah we did, except you’re posting these superficial gym photos on your Insta every day. So I figured if we don’t want to let others know about this…”

Mills thought about it for a while and then took the phone from me. He added some hashtags and edited the photo.

We didn’t go to the shower and headed straight to the car. I took him home. We sat quietly in the car for a moment.

Me:”I got a warning from the principal today. He said that it’s your last chance for all the hitting on students and my failure today.”

Mills:”Screw that cocksucker. He thinks he knows what he’s doing and he doesn’t. Maybe just lay low before we fix all of this.”

Me:”Fine, ready to go? I think my mom wants to do quesadillas today. So you better go and help her out.”

Mills looked nervous all of a sudden

Me:”Everything ok? You don’t like Mexican food or what?”

Mills had tears in his eyes again. “No, the food is amazing. And your family is really nice. I am a bit jealous to be honest. My family is broken and we don’t talk to each other. So this is really nice.”

Me:”Ok, I am actually glad you get to experience that. So why the tears?”

Mills:”I… I can’t speak spanish. I don’t know what they say to me most of the time…”

I laughed it off and told him the most common phrases that the González family uses the most. He felt relieved when he found out that it’s a bit repetitive and left the car.

I arrived at Mills' house. Finally alone. I didn’t even take off my clothes soaked from the sweat after the workout. I just entered the bathroom and turned on the shower. I even used the cold water this time! I took the shower head all the way to my face and let the water run down all over my body.

The shirt soaked in the water and soon became transparent. My nipples struggling to pierce the fabric. The wet shirt hugging my frame was a nice touch to the feeling of being big and bulky. I still can’t believe why Mills wouldn’t just stay at home all the time and just appreciate his body. I would.

I placed the shower head back and took off the shirt.

Releasing my imprisoned pecs. Finally being able to feel them and touch them. My dick was getting hard again just after the simple touch alone. I took a bit of shampoo and washed my hair, massaging my scalp. After that I leaned my head backwards and just let the water do it’s thing. I thought about jerking off right there, but maybe waiting for Jake would be better.

I got out of the shower, wrapped a towel around my waist and texted him.

“Hey, is your ass ready for another round?”

Jake:”Sorry, daddy. Family dinner. Can’t make it tonight.”

“Dude, we don’t know how long I have left in this body. You’d just waste it?”

Jake:”I know… but you know my parents. And trying to come up with an excuse for visiting my teacher in the evening is not really strong against them. Sorry”

I threw the phone on the couch

“Ok, so what now.” I looked around the room. Not really happy that I’d be alone here tonight.

Maybe I don’t have to be…

I downloaded Grindr. Set a profile picture. Sure, but some people might know who MIlls is. Maybe just his chest will work. I found some briefs in the bedroom and approached the mirror. 

“Yeah this is good. I’ll edit the head out.” Maybe I was being too soft on Mills, but I kind of didn’t want to cause too much trouble for him. Yeah, I guess I shouldn’t screw around in his body, but fuck it. A MAN has needs. And I surely am a really BIG one now.

I set up the photo, maybe revealing a bit too much.

But the messages kept flowing in. I could choose someone! Me! I tried Grindr before, but I guess my blank profile wasn’t exactly popular at the time. Now, everybody wanted to fuck me.

I decided to pick one guy. Hot body, twink, young, not too far and has a car. I texted him the address and waited. I remained just in briefs before he arrived and rang the bell at the front door.

I went to open them. To my surprise, my bully Alex stood there. Alex was shocked just as I was.

Alex:”Oh. I think I have the wrong address. I am so sorry, Mr. Mills.”

I didn’t really want anyone to know about this, but nevermind. There is no going back. “Alex, wait. The address is ok. Come in. I won’t hurt you.” I invited him and asked him to go to the living room.

Even with all of these muscles, I was still just a scared little nerd, that this guy in front of me would beat me up. But this time he acted differently. Oh right, that’s because he’s afraid of Mr. Mills. And now, he went for a hookup and to his surprise his teacher opened the door. I know he’s rethinking whole life right now.

Me:”You want anything to drink, Alex?”

Alex:” Ehm.. ugh… no I, I think I’m ok. Thank you.”

Me:”So Alex. By your profile I suggest you’re a bottom, if you were honest?”

Alex:”Yeah. No. It was just a joke. I have a girlfriend. I should go.”

Me:”Oh come on. I won’t tell anyone. I can be discreet. Only if you can be.”

Alex:”I can.”

Me:”Then there is nothing to worry about. Is it?” I said and leaned in closer. Jesus, it’s my second day of being in my teacher’s body and I was already on my way to sleep with a second student of mine.

We started making out on the couch. Our tongues twisting in our mouths. My hands wrapping around him as I felt his hands travel onto my stomach and my chest. Playing with my new pecs. My dick got hard and it was pretty obvious to Alex, who immediately got his hands on it. 

Me:”You like it?”

Alex nodded and I saw the lust in his eyes.

Me:”Wanna take all of this to the shower?”

I picked him up from the couch and carried him all the way to the bathroom. Turning on the red light and hot water. The combination of these things must have worked, because Alex stripped himself and immediately started worshiping my muscles.

Me:”Call me daddy”

Alex:”I…”

Me:”Call me daddy and tell me what you want from daddy.”

Alex:”I want your… dick. In my mouth… daddy.”

I put my hand on the top of his head and pushed him on his knees, shoving my dick into his mouth. Gently, but still with a bit of a force. I started thrusting as Alex wrapped his lips around the head of my shaft. I pushed so hard that he started gagging. But I could see in his eyes that he was finally happy. I pulled him back up by his hair and arm.

I turned him around and pushed him against the wall.

Me:”Be good for daddy and say that you want me to fuck you.”

Alex:”Fuck me, daddy!”

I squished a bit of lube that I conveniently got ready before, into my hand and put my fingers into his hairy ass. I found the prostate and started going in and out, making him moan out loud.

I pushed in my dick and wrapped my hand around his throat from behind, suffocating him a bit. With my other hand, I helped myself get fully inside and then I pulled his head back by the hair. My thrusts were smooth, but fast. Soon, Alex was screaming and moaning. I made him call me daddy several times after that. And for the first time in my life I shot my load on someone’s face.

Alex left that evening happy and finally satisfied. I asked him again for discretion and went off to sleep.

The next morning started off exactly as our second. We still did not swap back. I picked up Mills and we headed to school. But this time, the principal invited me to his office before the classes started.

He did not look happy.

Principal:”I am truly sorry to tell you this, but I have to let you go.”

Me:”Why? Is it the mother of the student?” I immediately thought that this would be about last night with Alex

Principal:”Look, I told you that you have one last chance. Unfortunately, most of the parents signed a petition to let you go. My hands are tight on this matter.”

Me:”Sir, but you said that all will be forgotten if I…” Principal:”I know what I said. I’m just saying that there is tension right now and it is easier for me to let you go. This petition was started by the González family after you verbally attacked their son during lessons. But many parents signed as well.”

Fuck. Now I was the one who got him fired.

Shit. What do I tell Mr. Mills?

Part 1:

Part 3: coming soon

[bower-quinn]

Little pieces of paper

Eddie receives little notes full of compliments. But who could possibly be behind this, and what does a waltz have to do with it? From stranger to lovers, fluffy, explicit speech

Goddamn it, this shitty place came straight out of hell, Eddie Munson thought as he stepped into the school building. It wasn’t the first time he had that thought—in fact, he had it every single damn day.

School might’ve been the best time of your life—if you were popular. Definitely not if you were an outsider. The popular assholes only acted nice to him when they wanted to buy drugs. He usually charged them double. That way, everyone was more or less satisfied. That was all he was. The stoner. The supposed devil worshipper, if the rumors parents whispered were to be believed. But really, he was just like everyone else—or, well, almost.

He was in a foul mood, like every Monday morning. He’d been supposed to have a gig over the weekend, but it got canceled. And now he hated the world just a little bit more. Eddie strolled to his locker, gave the dented door a good kick so it would spring open, and spotted something between crumpled paper and a broken pencil—a small, folded note. Not from a teacher. Just an ordinary slip of paper, neatly folded. Curious, he pulled it out.

“That denim jacket looks damn good on you.”

Eddie frowned and looked around. His eyes scanned the hallway. No one was looking at him. No one was laughing. No one seemed to have noticed anything. He didn’t throw the note away. He tucked it into his chest pocket and closed his locker, a thoughtful look settling over him that lingered all the way until class started. Suddenly, Monday didn’t seem quite so dark.

Class passed by like a blur. Eddie kept wondering who might’ve written him that note. He went through every name he could think of but came up with nothing.

The next day, when he found another note, he let out a quiet gasp of surprise.

“Are your curls as soft as they look? I’d love to touch them.”

Unconsciously, Eddie brushed his hair out of his face. Who the hell would write something like that to him? And more importantly—who the hell felt that way? No one had ever told him his hair looked soft. No one had ever wanted to touch it.

He was almost convinced it would end there. But a small flicker of hope held onto the idea that maybe—just maybe—there would be another note on day three.

And there was. On Wednesday, it read:

“Every time you smile, I wish it was just for me.”

Thursday:

“When you stare out the window, you look like you’re in another world. I’d love to know where you go.”

Eddie grew restless. Not in a bad way. But in the way someone does when something good happens that they can’t quite understand. At lunch, he showed the notes to his D&D crew. Gareth nearly dropped his sandwich laughing, Jeff giggled like he’d just seen a naked woman for the first time, and Dustin—well, Dustin looked at Eddie like he’d just realized someone could actually be interested in him.

“A secret admirer, huh?” Gareth smirked. “Or at least a GIRL!” Jeff added with exaggerated emphasis, like it was the most absurd idea ever.

Eddie laughed along. A little too loudly. And while the boys turned back to their fries, his eyes swept the cafeteria. Who was watching him? Who had the guts to write those words—but not to show themselves?

At home, Eddie carefully placed the notes on his bed. He pulled out an old, empty scrapbook he’d found once at a flea market. Page by page, he pasted the notes in, like they were treasures. And in a way—they were. Next to each note, he scribbled the date.

Then came Friday. This time, it wasn’t a short message. It was a longer letter, folded carefully, written on heavier paper. Still in the same handwriting.

Eddie read it standing right there in the dim hallway, between the rows of lockers. And with every sentence, something shifted in his face.

Eddie, I saw you laughing with your friends about the notes. Maybe it was just a joke to you. But for me, it was real. I wanted to say all the things I never dared to say out loud. You always seem like you don’t care about anything. But I see you. When you think no one’s looking, I see you tapping your fingers on the desk when you’re nervous. I see the way you lift your chin when someone looks at you like you’re beneath them. But now, I feel like I made a mistake. Maybe it was ridiculous of me to compliment you. Maybe I’m just naive.

Eddie felt something tighten in his chest. He hadn’t meant to laugh at whoever wrote them—not really. He just didn’t know what to do with the feeling of someone being genuinely kind to him. Just kind. Without wanting anything in return.

He wanted to apologize. Explain himself. But every note had been unsigned. He had no idea what to do now.

What if he’d ruined everything? What if there were no more notes?

Angrily, he slammed his fist against the locker. The metallic echo rang through the hallway. A wave of pain shot through his hand.

“Fuck,” he hissed, clutching it. Goddamn idiot.

The weekend was torture. Not only was his hand sore and turning a faint shade of blue, but he had to go two whole days without any notes.

He smoked too much. Thought way too much. He knew the last letter by heart.

When he pasted it into the scrapbook, he wrote next to it: “I’m sorry.” His jagged handwriting beside those neat, rounded letters looked like an insult.

He didn’t know what to expect when he opened his locker Monday morning. Maybe... nothing. Maybe it was all over.

But then—there was a new note.

His heart did a tiny flip. Same handwriting. Familiar. Tilted slightly to the right. And as he unfolded the paper, it felt like touching something sacred.

“I really thought about stopping. Honestly. But I couldn’t stand the idea of your beautiful brown eyes looking sad because of me.”

He leaned his forehead against the locker and smiled. A small, honest smile. Little butterflies stirred gently in his stomach. Someone thought his eyes were beautiful.

After that, it became routine. One note per day. Each one a beam of light cutting through his otherwise dull school days like sunlight through a dirty basement window.

The tone changed. It grew warmer. Bolder. The compliments started to shift.

From: “Your smile saves my mornings.”

To: “Last night I dreamed you were holding my hand—and I woke up smiling.”

From: “The way you look when you listen to someone—wow.”

To: “I wonder what your lips would feel like on mine.”

And Eddie?

He read each note with focus. Sometimes, he was almost embarrassed by his own goofy grin. Other times, he turned red. Really red. Especially when the notes got... more direct.

One of the last ones completely knocked him off course:

“Just thinking about how your tattoos would feel against my bare skin gives me goosebumps. And I hope you feel the same.”

Eddie had read that one during class, hidden behind his binder in the back row. He turned red like a tomato in July and shoved the note into his bag as fast as he could. After that, he stopped showing them to the guys. They’d never take it seriously. They’d make jokes.

But Eddie... Eddie felt something. Maybe awe. Maybe desire. Maybe just a warm flutter in his chest he hadn’t felt in ages.

And then—there was her.

Steve Harrington’s sister.

She’d never paid him much attention. But lately... She greeted him. In the mornings. In the afternoons. Waved at him in the cafeteria. Not flirtatiously. Just... kindly. And sweet. So damn sweet.

Once, when he walked into class, she looked up, smiled... And Eddie felt like the air had thinned out completely.

Of course, he thought about it. Could it be her?

But then he shook his head. No. She was too... perfect. Too confident. Too brave. The notes felt secretive. Vulnerable. Like they came from a quiet corner—not from someone who waved at him openly across the cafeteria.

Then came Tuesday. One of those hot, sticky, dragging days.

He’d just read the newest note.

"Have you ever had a blowjob? I wonder how your cock feels in my mouth. What it looks like."

Jesus Christ.

This was the first one that was... explicit. An entire little fantasy written on paper.

Eddie stood there, beet red, heart pounding in his throat. He could feel the words ignite something in his lower stomach. A tingle. A pull. His body reacted before he could even think.

Jesus Christ, was he really about to get hard in the middle of the hallway?

He tried to shove the note away before anyone saw. But Gareth came around the corner—too loud, too clumsy, too nosy as always.

“Yo, Eddie! What’re you reading, man? Another one of your sexy fan letters?” he grinned.

Eddie slammed his locker shut way too fast. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled, his face heating up again. “Let’s go. The others are probably waiting.”

He was just about to walk off—when a soft voice called out behind him.

“Um... Eddie?”

He turned.

There she was. Steve Harrington’s sister. Wearing a light, floral summer dress that fluttered softly in the hallway breeze. Her hair gleamed like honey under the fluorescent lights. And her eyes—so clear, so warm—met his.

She was holding a small folded note. His note.

“You dropped this,” she said, her voice so soft it made him dizzy.

He stared at her. He didn’t know if it was the dress. Or her angelic face. Maybe both. Maybe it was the way she looked at him—like he wasn’t just the freak. Not just the outsider. Like he was someone. Someone she noticed.

With trembling fingers, he took the note back.

“Thanks,” he managed, his voice rough.

She smiled—radiant, genuine, breathtaking—and turned to disappear into the crowd.

Eddie stood frozen.

“Dude,” Gareth muttered, “stop staring like some goddamn creep. You’ve got no shot with her anyway.”

“Thanks, Gareth,” Eddie snapped. “Thanks for the reminder.”

Gareth raised his hands in mock surrender. They walked to D&D in silence. That session, Eddie tortured the party mercilessly.

At home, he locked the door, music turned down low—a rare occasion—and pulled out the scrapbook.

Page by page, he flipped through the notes. Each one from that same, unknown voice. Someone who saw him in ways he couldn’t—or didn’t dare—to see himself.

He studied the handwriting. Thin, round letters. Neat but not perfect. With tiny irregularities that made it feel... human. Real.

He traced one line with his finger, gently—like he could touch the person behind it:

“You make me tremble just by sitting there.”

A quiet sigh escaped him. And then the thought struck:

Can you fall in love with someone just through a few handwritten notes?

The answer wasn’t clear. Not a yes. Not a no. But his heart beat faster, and his stomach tightened in that way it only does when something really matters.

He longed for this person. Their voice. Their face. The moment everything would become clear.

He wanted to see them. More than anything.

Eddie had a mission. He arrived way too early and stood for nearly half an hour just watching his locker, hand on the lock, eyes like a hawk.

Part of him—the paranoid part—wondered: What if it was all a joke? Gareth, Jeff, the others... maybe they were messing with him?

But then he thought of the handwriting. The tone. The details.

No. That wasn’t them. Too real. Too raw.

So he stayed. Skipped Spanish. Hid behind a pillar a few feet away, watching.

And then— He saw her.

Little Harrington came out of the history classroom. She was wearing tight black jeans today, along with a loose band shirt that slipped slightly off her shoulder. Her hair fell into her face as she hummed something—softly, barely audible, but Eddie perked up his ears. It took a moment, then it hit him like lightning. “Fade to Black.” Metallica. He knew the song by heart. She was humming the guitar line, slightly off-key, but unmistakable. He swallowed. Could it be? She walked right past his locker without sparing him a glance. Then headed toward the bathroom. No note. No look. No hesitation. Two minutes later, she came back out, face freshly washed, hair pushed back a little. She disappeared into her classroom again.

Eddie stood there. Confused. Disappointed. And somehow... empty. He had hoped she would leave something in his locker. A clue. A glance. Something. But nothing.

The next morning, his disappointment still lingered as he hesitantly approached his locker. He opened it slowly. Expected nothing. But there it was again. A small, folded note, neatly wedged between his books. He opened it, heart pounding. And as he read it, he couldn’t help but laugh. A soft, joyful, completely different kind of laugh.

“You can watch your locker all you want, Munson. You’ll never catch me. Maybe you’d be disappointed if you did. Maybe the mystery is better than the answer. But in case you’re curious: You look damn good when you’re all tense like that. Almost like a predator. Damn sexy.”

Eddie folded the note and pressed it to his chest. He grinned. He hadn’t caught her. But she had seen him. Again. And somewhere out there, she was walking around—with that handwriting and that damn intuition for him. And he knew he wouldn’t give up on her.

But then something happened that clouded Eddie’s good mood from the past weeks. Something that seemed like it came straight out of hell—like the school itself had invented it to torture him: PE class. Eddie’s personal nightmare. In shorts. Very short shorts.

He was late, as always, dragging his feet into the stuffy gym that smelled like old rubber and overheated disinfectant. He scratched the back of his neck, sticking out of a too-tight t-shirt, and was ready to line up with the other guys who, as usual, were just waiting to throw balls at each other’s heads.

But today was... different. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw it wasn’t just his class in the gym, but a group of girls as well. And among them— her. She was wearing a loose white shirt tucked casually into her pants, her hair down, and she had an elastic band around her wrist that she was absentmindedly twirling between her fingers.

Their eyes met, and she smiled. Eddie blinked. Was that—meant for him?

The gym teacher stepped forward, set down an old cassette player, and said loudly: “Coach is sick. So no hurdles or dodgeball today. We’re doing something different: dance class.” A collective groan swept through the gym. Eddie rolled his eyes—dramatically. The teacher noticed instantly. “You’ll dance too, Munson,” she said sharply, pointing at him. Eddie raised his hands and gave an exaggerated innocent grin. The moment she turned around, he flipped her off behind her back.

A giggle rang out. Soft, bright, gentle. He turned. There she was. Hand in front of her mouth, clearly laughing at his gesture. She winked—and Eddie... was gone. Completely. His mind went blank, like it only did after two joints.

“Ladies’ choice!” the teacher called as the music started. “Girls, pick your partner. Let’s go!” As soon as she finished, the girls rushed forward. Eddie was already half sitting on the bench, certain he’d be ignored as always. The girls would pick the jocks. The pretty boys. Not the freak in the band shirt.

But then—footsteps. And there she was. Standing right in front of him.

“Hey,” she said quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Then she held out her hand. “Wanna dance with me?”

Eddie stared at her. “Are you... sure? I mean—you could ask anyone.” She smiled, her voice calm and warm: “But I’m asking you.” His fingers trembled as he took her hand. Her skin was soft and warm. They walked together to the center of the gym. She didn’t let go of his hand. His heart pounded. I’m holding Harrington’s little sister’s hand. Me. Eddie-freakin’-Munson.

The music started. A slow waltz. Everyone around them began to turn and sway. Only Eddie stood stiff, overwhelmed. She stepped closer, took his other hand, placed it on her hip. “Like this. And now your other arm on my shoulder. Just like that. Don’t worry, I’ll lead.”

Eddie swallowed. His hands on her hips felt like they had just touched a live wire. His knees were ready to give. Everything about this felt unreal—the slow rhythm of the waltz from the old tape player, the muffled voices of the other students, the soft gym light, her perfume. She looked up at him and smiled.

“You dance better than I expected,” she said softly. Eddie laughed nervously, trying not to step on her feet. They moved to the beat—awkward at first, but somehow finding a shared rhythm. Eddie felt his tension slowly ease.

“Is this your first time? I mean—dancing?” she asked, blushing a little at how that sounded. “Depends if you can call this dancing,” he muttered and grinned. “But yeah. No one’s ever asked.” She looked at him seriously. “I asked.”

Eddie swallowed. “You’re braver than I thought.” “And you’re shyer than I thought,” she replied gently. He laughed, or tried to—it came out awkward. “Don’t say that too loud. My image will fall apart.”

She laughed too—an honest, bell-like laugh. Her eyes flicked downward, to his leg, where a bit of a tattoo peeked out from under his pant leg. “Is that... a skull?” she asked. Eddie glanced down and cursed under his breath. “Damn. Yeah.” He tugged at the pant leg, to no avail. “Didn’t mean to show that today.” “Cool,” she said simply. “You have more, right?” “Seven,” Eddie replied. “Some bigger, some... born from bad lighting and worse decisions.” She smiled. “Can I ask what they mean?”

Eddie hesitated, then saw the genuine interest on her face and nodded. “The bat wing’s because of Dungeons & Dragons. My character made a dark pact—it was super edgy, and I was sixteen.” “I like it,” she said, locking eyes with him. “I think that’s my favorite one.” “You have favorites among my tattoos?” She nodded, but didn’t elaborate. After a few silent steps, she said: “I’ve always wondered what tattoos feel like on skin. If you trace them with your fingers. If they... feel different.”

Eddie looked at her in surprise. It wasn’t just what she said—but how. Something about it felt familiar. Like déjà vu. Like... a line from one of the notes. “Some really do feel different,” he said cautiously. “Some are slightly raised. Want to—?” He stopped, turning red. But she removed a hand from his shoulder—thankfully not the one in his—and traced the bats. “Soft,” she murmured. “But yeah, a little raised. You’re right.” Then—out of nowhere—she asked: “Would you go to the movies with me sometime?”

Eddie froze. His heart felt heavy. He liked her. Truly. But... “I... think I might already be in love with someone else.” Her eyes widened. He could see how much his words hurt her. And that fact alone was awful. He, Eddie Munson, had hurt someone this good.

“Oh,” was all she said. Her voice was quiet, almost fragile. A small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “That hurts. Honestly.”

Eddie felt terrible. So he said: “There are... notes. I know it sounds silly. Someone’s been leaving me one almost every day. For weeks. And... I think I’m falling for someone I don’t even really know.”

She looked at him for a long time. Her expression shifted. He couldn’t quite read it—surprise? Sadness? Hope? Then she said calmly: “Maybe you just have to wait until all the puzzle pieces come together.”

But before he could ask what she meant, the class ended. Without another word, she left the gym, leaving Eddie full of question marks. Puzzle pieces?

The next morning, he walked to his locker with a pounding heart. He knew it. Something would be there. And it was. A note. Folded. Light blue paper. He opened it.

“Isn’t it beautiful when all the puzzle pieces fit?”

Eddie’s heart skipped a beat. He slowly looked up. A bit down the hall—there she was. Harrington. She raised her hand. Smiled. He stared at her, then at the note, then back. She shrugged. And laughed. He ran toward her.

“Was it you... this whole time?” he panted. She nodded. “Yes.” A wide, disbelieving, joyful smile spread across his face. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” “I needed to figure out how you felt about me,” she said, smiling brightly, “as you might’ve noticed, I’m shy.” “But bold enough to write me dirty notes,” he whispered, smirking as she blushed.

Then she looked into his eyes. “Are you finally going to kiss me, Munson?” Eddie didn’t wait for a second invitation.

Weeks later, Eddie worked up the courage to show her his notebook. The one where he’d pasted all the notes. The one he kept under his pillow. They flipped through the pages together, laughing now and then. Later, when Eddie was alone again, he noticed a new entry. This time, written directly into the notebook. The handwriting was exactly the same.

“No more notes. I love you, Eddie Munson.”

And Eddie Munson, the freak, the outsider, the metalhead, smiled like someone who’d just gotten everything he ever wished for.

[rekilover]

Sieun x reader fic about him trying to confess.

(english is NOT my first language so feel free to correct me if I write something wrong )

Love.

That feeling that appears in romantic series where two people want each other’s presence more than anything else in the world. Where they hold hands and confess their affection without shame, where their lips meet in passionate kisses and…

“What the hell is this?” Sieun thought, turning off the TV with annoyance as he watched that romantic TV show put on by his mother, become more and more explicit.

—Sieun, it’s time for you to go to school. I don’t want you being late in your school record, university’s don’t like people who aren’t in time, you know that? — his mother said from the kitchen, in a tone so falsely kind that it erased any trace of tenderness.

He didn’t answer. He just nodded and put on his shoes in silence, his mind still trapped on a thought more annoying than that ridiculous show. The fact that, to his misfortune, he had fallen in love with Y/N.

Accepting that feeling wasn’t easy. For weeks, he denied any possibility that it was real. He tried to ignore it. But his body betrayed him: his heart raced when he saw her, his hands sweated, and his mind clouded. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, he felt it. And that drove him crazy.

When he arrived at the classroom, his friends were already there, happily chatting about what the day’s menu would be. Everyone was present except Y/N, who had started feeling a bit sick as classes began, so she went to the nurse’s office to rest.

“Maybe… they could help me,” Sieun thought, looking at them carefully, analyzing the possible scenarios of asking for advice.

Baku would probably suggest something cliché and embarrassing. Hyuntak, something exaggerated like confessing his love with a bouquet of flowers outside her house. And Juntae… maybe Juntae could be useful.

— Juntae, can you come here for a moment? I want to talk outside.— Sieun said with such tense seriousness that his friend paled, feeling a chill run down his spine.

—Wow! What could our dear Juntae have done to provoke Sieun?— Joked Baku, bursting out laughing along with Hyuntak.

Outside the classroom, facing each other, Sieun looked away. First at the ceiling, then the wall, and finally back at his friend, who looked at him with growing discomfort.

—You..— Sieun murmured, scratching the back of his neck, uncomfortable — I need your help.

— My help? Did you fail a exam?— Juntae asked, tilting his head. Then he laughed. —That can’t be it, you always get good grades. So…?

Sieun stared at him, the silence stretching between them. One minute. Three. Five. Juntae began sweating, wondering if he was about to get punched.

—Y/N. — he finally said, with a more deep tone than usual.

Juntae straightened, curious, and leaned in a little to listen better. — Y/N? What about her?

—I want to tell her I like her .—Sieun confessed almost in a whisper.

Juntae’s eyes widened. He covered his mouth with one hand, surprised.

—You like her? Sieun… do you know what it means to like someone? It’s not like having a friend, it’s… you know.— he said, giving a wink so forced it was more embarrassing than reassuring.

Before Sieun could respond, the classroom door slammed open. Hyuntak and Baku came out, both striking exaggeratedly firm poses as if preparing for battle.

Baku pointed directly at Sieun with determination.

—SIEUN!— he exclaimed loudly. —In thanks for everything you’ve done for us, I declare that today begins… the Operation Love Confession!

Sieun’s eyes went wide, looking around desperately to make sure no one else had heard. He ran to cover Baku’s mouth.

—Are you crazy, idiot?! What the hell are you saying?- he whispered through clenched teeth, red with embarrassment and anger.

—Our dear Sieun… in love. What a beautiful discovery— Said Hyuntak solemnly, raising his hands to the sky as if witnessing a miracle.

—Don’t embarrass him!—Juntae intervened, standing between Sieun and the other two, dragging him back with him. —Sieun never asks for help. We have to do this right.

Sieun stared at the floor, frustrated, jaw clenched. He hated that they knew, but above all, he hated what that feeling was starting to cause.

Once class ended, the four boys were alone in the classroom.

—It’s decided. This afternoon, after school — Said Baku, marking a poorly drawn plan with a red marker on the club’s whiteboard. —Sieun will come with us to the station’s minimarket. He’ll buy a peach juice and a strawberry chocolate.

—What does that have to do with confessing to me?— Sieun asked from a corner of the room, sitting like a prisoner.

—Everything, my dear lover. Because that’s her favorite snack — replied Baku with a smile worthy of a war general. —She’ll like that you remembered.

—What if she rejects me?

—Then you eat the juice and chocolate yourself. Double emotional loss, but zero waste. —Hyuntak gave a thumbs-up.

Juntae, much more rational, sighed as he erased part of the “emotional roadmap” Baku had drawn on the whiteboard.

—We don’t need a scandal. We just have to create the ideal atmosphere. Nothing cheesy, nothing ridiculous. Just you, her, and honest words.

Sieun swallowed. Honest words? How was he supposed to organize his thoughts if he couldn’t even look at her without feeling like his heart would explode?

—What if I get stuck?

—Then you make a gesture, like… this —Hyuntak winked grotesquely and gave two thumbs-up. — That never fails. Women love body language.

—God… why did I ask you guys for help?

That day, after school, Sieun stood outside the nurse’s office, his hands sweaty and the minimarket bag his friends had given him trembling between his fingers. Juntae was beside him, lightly patting his back with an expression somewhere between emotional support and medical concern.

—You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.

Sieun didn’t answer. He looked down the hall where Y/N had just left the nurse’s office, her uniform spotless and her hair loose.

Their eyes met for a moment.

—Sieun?

Everything stopped, the air, his heart.

— I-I have something to give you — he said, stepping forward awkwardly, as if his feet didn’t know how to walk.

He held out the bag, she accepted it with curiosity.

—Peach juice and strawberry chocolate? How did you know I loved these? — She smiled.

Sieun opened his mouth, but no words came out. Juntae, hiding behind a column, frantically made hand signals: Now! Speak! NOW!

—Y/N, I…—he finally said, lowering his gaze — I hope you are better now, that’s all.—He spoke firm.

His friends, silently watching, let out soft sighs of frustration, clearly disappointed the plan didn’t work.

Y/N noticed their presence and, thinking they had just come to check on her, she approached them with a smile.

—I’m better now, isn’t that better? —she said proudly. — I felt a bit dizzy when I got here, but it’s gone now.

She expected some verbal response but only received pats on the shoulder paired with disappointed expressions, and her friends walked away without saying anything else.

—Y/N, patience is a virtue you need to learn to practice— Juntae murmured from afar.

Watching the scene, Sieun could only mentally resign himself. Confessing was much harder than he had imagined.

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Poly!plastics x weird kid!reader

Reader is known as the “weird” kid at school hangs with Janis and Damian, super duper quiet, skateboards, has piercings always wearing headphones but somehow is dating the plastics, this is what the whole school is wondering, but in reality, reader is just an average person ain't nothing special about them (well that meets the eye) and somehow has the plastics following them like lost puppies

Idiot, I Said Don't Fall

|| poly!plastics x weird kid!nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings; Regina teasing reader/being a little mean, light swearing, brief mentions of bullying, short drabble

|| Summary; when reader skates in the parking lot, their girlfriends find them. Regina can't resist the urge to be a tease.

Requests open!

Started; November 9th

Finished; November 9th

~~~

Everyone always wondered how you got with the plastics, hell even you wondered. You weren't popular by any means, you fit pretty well into the weird kids category. Hanging out with Janis and Damian. Who were basically your best friends besides your girlfriends. Because nobody else wanted to be with the weird, skater, piercings, quiet kid. Even after you were dating the plastics people stayed away from you. Actually, you were sure they stayed away from you more than before. Specifically because Regina George was one of your girlfriends. And they really didn't want to cross her. At least that stopped the bullying, though. So you didn't really mind. Plus, you still had Janis and Damian.

It was lunch one day and you were out in the parking lot, headphones on and practicing skate tricks. With your absolute favourite board. Honestly, this thing may as well have been your child. It went everywhere with you. To classes, extracurricular activities, you name it it was there. It wasn't hard to move around either, you had one of those school bags with skateboard straps on the front of the bag. So that's where you'd put it.

The plastics have been looking around for you, wondering where you could have gotten. You weren't always the easiest to find. Never really sticking to the same spots. You liked to hang out in new places. Give yourself different sceneries. Eventually they found you in the parking lot, with Regina leading the gang. Arms folded across her chest and eyebrow raised as she watched you whril around on your skateboard.

"Don't fall!" She called out with a smirk, knowing exactly what she was doing. The moment you heard her you were startled out of your trick, completely fumbling and landing on the ground. Skateboard rolling away from you and headphones falling from your head. Regina held back a laugh as she walked over and helped you up," idiot, I said don't fall."

"You jinxed me." You huffed, mumbling quietly. Regina's gotten used to your mumblings, so she knew what you said as she helped you to your feet. While you picked up your headphones. Karen ran after your board. Getting it for you and returning it to your hands, kissing your cheek. "Thanks, Kare.."

Gretchen caught up and brushed her hands on your outfit, cleaning you up a bit. "Are you okay?" She asked and when you nodded, she relaxed and looked at Regina. "That was mean."

"What? All I did was tell them not to fall." Regina played innocent, wrapping a possessive arm around your waist," c'mon, dummy. Let's go get some lunch."

You nodded again, being a person of few words as you followed your girls into the school.

[theycallmemarcy]

tim laflour dating headcanons

tim laflour x reader

warnings: none

a/n: after not writing for some time, i wanted to upload something short ! not proofread, enjoy !

- he asked you out right after winning a hockey game !

“i was just wondering um, if you would maybe want to have dinner with me?” he said while touching the back of his neck, looking nervous. “we just won the game so—“

“are you asking me out on a date tim?” he chuckled “no i mean—umm yeah, yeah i’m asking you out on a date” you giggled at that.

“i’ll meet you outside tim, your pick !” he went rushing back in to change quickly while blushing like a little kid.

- it was a really cute date in this lovely little mexican place, it was his favourite.

- he walked you back home where he kissed you goodbye, softly not wanting to seem eager, which you gladly accepted

- after that you always go to all of his games, which he loves since he doesn’t act as violent when you’re around (which his teammates are grateful for)

- he gave you his spare jersey to wear to his games, so that everyone can see you’re his

- you share earbuds on your way to class

- he greets you he comes up behind you he grabs your waist and pecks your neck

- calls you babe, all.the.time. it may be basic, he still loves it

- you guys go rollerblading everywhere !! he always holds your hand, his reasoning for this is just in case any of you two fall, so you fall together, it would be embarrassing if any of you fall alone, so he has an excuse to hold your hand !

- takes up the whole bed, like a starfish, if you want space you’ll have to fight for it, same thing with bedsheets, hell hoard them in his sleep (you’ve ended up waking him up and scolding him several times)

“but i’m asleep it isn’t even my fault!” “we’ll see about that tim” you say, teasing him.

- which he makes up for by kissing you, a lot.

- about kissing, he’s so obsessed with you and kissing you 25/8

- middle of class ? “just a quick peck babe”

- after a game ? he’ll kiss the soul out of you

- getting a new piercing ? “if you kiss me it’s less scary”

- he has no limit, he loves you too much

- always let’s you have the first bite of food, no matter the ocasion, and also the last

- you guys have sleepovers all the time ! it always involves some bad slasher from the 80’s and snacks, and sometimes darryl

- when you stay over you always wear his jersey (which makes him very shy)

- he doesn’t care if it’s extremely hot, he will cuddle you to sleep always

- he loves being the big spoon, but most of the time you end up holding him (he loves being in your arms)

- records cd’s and cassettes for you to listen to !

[explosionkatsu]

Love letter in winter

Bakugou x Reader

Winter is about to end in Japan and classes are still ongoing. Everyone is talking about their plans for Valentine's. Some are going out with friends, whilst others are preparing a date for their partners. It's the month of love like what they say, and students are wondering if will they ever receive chocolate from their schoolmates, particularly the male population.

Everyone is excited, planning to make homemade chocolate to give to their crushes and friends as a sign of their friendship.

Everyone is excited except for him.

While lunch break, everyone was conversing with their friends and Y/n couldn't help but look at the blondie sitting quietly looking at the floor as if thinking while Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero are conversing enthusiastically.

She didn't know if Bakugo ever accepted chocolates before. But Y/n was aware that the person they like isn't fond of sweets making it harder for her to think of something to give him.

Sensing someone is staring at him, Bakugou lifts his gaze from the floor and looks to his surroundings catching Y/n staring at him. He held his gaze for a moment noticing that Y/n doesn't even know he was staring back at them. He analyses them for a moment before seeing Y/n snap out of their thought watching her with an amused face seeing Y/n all flustered and turning her back at him.

Kirishima who is not listening to Kaminari ramble anymore sees Bakugo and turns to look at where he is looking. He saw Y/n turning red and looking away from them then he went back on watching Bakugou seeing him smirk at Y/n’s reaction.

February 14

The day of Valentine’s day. Principal Nezu decided to join the month of love celebration and give students time to celebrate the holiday. Besides, the month of love isn't only about our lovers, right? It is also about the love we give to our family and friends.

Several students in Class 1A are out, going on who knows what their plans were while some are left behind.

Y/n is one of the students left inside the dorm. After rejecting the invitation of their classmates, they decided to stay behind to think of what to give everyone, especially Bakugo.

"The hell are you doing here?” Bakugo said walking down the stairs. He was surprised to see her alone in the common area.

Apparently, he also decided not to join them.

“E-eh? Why are you here?” Y/n asked him back.

“I asked first, stupid. Now answer me.” He demanded, finally getting down and head to the kitchen.

“I don’t know,” Y/n mumbled looking away from him.

“What do you mean you don't know? The hell is wrong with you.” Bakugo shook his head while opening the fridge to look for something to eat.

“I just didn't feel like joining them.” Y/n sighed resting back on the sofa.

Silence engulfs them since Bakugo didn't answer them.

Y/n didn't even dare to ask why he was still here since he knew he was not interested in this kind of holiday.

Suddenly, a letter dropped on her lap caught her by surprise. Y/n sat up and looked who gave it only to see Bakugo walking back upstairs.

Y/n, with a racing heart and shaking hands, decided to open the letter. The content made her heart race even more. Putting it back inside the envelope, she stood up and ran towards Bakugo’s room.

She didn't know he felt the same way as she did so this might be her chance to confess as well.

Once she reached his room, Y/n knocked while trying to catch her breath and calm her racing heart. She was nervous. How could she face him like this? What will he say?

Thoughts are running in her head, but it was cut off when Bakugo finally opened his door.

“What is it?” He asked hiding his face.

“I-i..” Y/n was nervous.

Bakugo’s eyes were on her. He was watching her fidgeting as well as her reaction.

“I l-like you too..” Y/n said, face reddening.

Y/n was suddenly pulled by her arm into the dark room. The door behind her was shut closed. She couldn't see anything in the room.

Y/n felt arms wrapped around her waist, hugging her from behind. The scent is sweet and alluring.

“B-bakugo..” Y/n stuttered feeling his warm breath on her neck.

“Took you long enough..” Bakugo whispered huskily, breathing in her scent. “I’ve been fucking waiting for this.”

Y/n was speechless. How can she show him that she loves him? She was glad that the room was dark, it concealed her reddening face.

Y/n decided to follow her intrusive thoughts. Slowly, she turns her body, finally facing him. The intimacy between them helped her to make out his face. He was looking at her. Gradually, she brings her lips against his, moving them slowly and passionately.

Bakugo though instantly responded to her kiss by kissing her back, but with more passion. He’s been waiting for this. He even couldn't believe this was happening.

The kiss started to turn into a yearning sensation.

Bakugo navigated Y/n to his bed without breaking the kiss. His arms were still around her caressing and exploring her clothed body.

Y/n felt the mattress underneath her as they continued. She felt him push her down gently causing her to break the kiss and fall on the bed.

They were panting from the lack of oxygen but they didn't care.

Bakugo stood in front of her while eyeing her. He let his eyes roam her body sensually. ‘God she’s beautiful.’ He then went on top of her, his arm supporting his weight.

He’ll treasure this moment. He’ll keep every detail of hers in his mind.

Once again, Bakugo kisses her. He felt her lips slightly shaking and kissing him back.

Y/n was nervous but loved every moment. She wanted this to happen.

Feeling tough, she put her hands under his loose tank top, feeling all the muscles and biceps he has from all the training they did.

Bakugo shivered as he felt her warm hands touching his body. This caused him to halt the kiss and look at her.

“Are you teasing me, hah.” Bakugo smirked while still breathless. His velvet eyes staring at her.

“N-no..” Y/n mumbled looking back at him.

“Wrong answer.” Bakugo positioned his face at the crook of her neck, biting the flesh. When he bites a certain spot, a moan escapes from Y/n’s lips. This made him grin. He found her sensitive spot. Without any further, he once again bit the same spot, kissing it, sucking it.

“B-bakugo..” Y/n moaned breathlessly.

“Katsuki,” Bakugo said, continuing his motions.

“K-katsuki..” Y/n moaned.

Hearing her moan his name, Bakugo loses it. He went back for a kiss and took his chances by putting a hand under her shirt toward her breast. He unhurriedly massaged and fondled her breath causing her to moan in the kiss.

[yndrgrl]

katsuki bakugo has a glow up during summer break, & now he has a lot of girls' attention

fluff. ooc! bakugo. bits of jealousy. sfw. x reader. acquaintances to lovers. long ass fic.

a/n: the horny content will continue after this message :) also i kinda got nerdy so just ignore my rambles about fighting haha

the whispers & murmurs buzzed like bugs throughout the halls of u.a. you couldn't help but eavesdrop when you heard lower classmen gush about how good katsuki looks, how he definitely had a summer glow up.

it's not that he was bad looking before, that's just not the case. so, when you heard that he somehow got hotter over the span of a few months, you grew curious.

your best friend, ochaco, began to rave about him. "no, you don't understand, y/n. have you seen him yet?"

"i haven't yet, but it doesn't matter! he's still rude as hell!" you told her. "besides, aren't you still going after midoriya?"

"yeah, but i can still appreciate attractive people," she retorted, shoving the rest of her her breakfast-on-the-go in her mouth. you fished your phone out of your school cardigan pocket to change your music when, like a kdrama (or a shitty fanfic), you ran into something-- no, someone.

speak of the devil. "oi! watch it!" the abrasive blonde spun around & met your eyes. his harden glare soften oh so subtly.

"i'm sorry," you quaintly apologized. it's the first day & the first hour of the next 180 days, & you're not going to get in a fight.

"it's whatever, just make sure where you're going next time," katsuki responded. his tone was still harsh, yet what he said was almost nice.

he walked off into the both of yours' classroom, leaving you & ochaco stunned. you both stared at each other, mouths agape. "what just happened?" she finally spat out.

"i have no idea."

"WAS HE JUST NICE?"

a week later, you sat in class, listening to mr. aizawa drone on about something so utterly boring, you'd rather stick your head in a toilet & flush it yourself. you let your eyes wander around the class. for the most part, everyone stayed the same.

then, your eyes landed on katsuki, who was seated by the window. now that you had time to think about it, he did change. his jawline was a tad sharper, his hair appeared more soft, & his shirt clung onto every inch of his upper body. he definitely bulked up during the summer.

his skin is clear, he must've also began caring for a sense of style because his fingers displayed grunge rings, & his eyes were somehow a darker, more alluring shade of crimson. wait, his eyes... were staring at you.

no, he was staring at you staring at him.

god, you felt like a creep. you were expecting him to yell at you, scowl through gritted teeth, but no. he didn't do any of that. he shot you a smirk, then went back to jotting notes.

confusion settled in after embarrassment. you couldn't help that a light pink dusted your cheeks. it wasn't noticeable though, thank goodness.

the subtle, weird antics didn't stop. maybe he's just playing with me or something, you wondered. or maybe i'm looking too much into thinks.

when passing him in the halls, he'd acknowledge you by giving you a small nod-- even if his friends were talking his ears off. he'd hold the doors open for you & only you, but would walk away quickly. he was treating you differently then he treats everyone else, & you don't know why.

"bakugo~" a girl you barely recognized greeted. "you look handsome today!"

he & his friends sat on the other side of your friends' long table. you were the closest to his squad, only three seats away from them. they could hear your conversations, but that means you could hear theirs.

"shut it, & eat your food," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. with his chopsticks, he picked at his bento box.

"ooo~ what did you pack?" she pressed as she inched closer to him. "aww, did your mom make that?"

"no, i did," he raised his voice. she wouldn't take the hint though.

she merely giggled, asking, "could you feed it to me? i wanna try some~" she crossed her arms under her breasts to intensify her cleavage. she was picture perfect, to say the least. any other guy would be drooling at the sight of her.

not bakugo though. he was goal-oriented, focused on the future, & not into dating from what you gathered. a small part of you is bummed out that he isn't interested in romance. he was practically everything you wanted in a guy after all-- just minus the whole "jerk" part.

"what are you looking at, bakugo?" you didn't realize you were staring -once again- until the girl whipped her head around & caught your gaze. her cattish smile dropped into a thin line. "quit staring, idiot-"

"don't call her that, bitch."

both yours & her eyes widened at the quickness & unexpected defensiveness spewed by bakugo. he stuck some of his egg omelette in his mouth, unbothered.

"wh-what? i don't think i heard you, bakugo."

he swallowed his food, ran his tongue across his top teeth, and started to pick up more food with his chopsticks, reiterating, "don't talk to y/n like that, got it?" he put the food in his mouth.

she scoffed, humiliated. "i have to leave," she said, voice dropping at least an octave. your eyes trailed her as she sat with her friends, & they immediately began gossiping. how could you tell? the way they all looked back at you with a nasty expression on their faces.

you returned your attention back to bakugo, who had both your friends & his friends floored with what just happened. "thanks for that," you started. "you really didn't have to do that."

"i know i didn't, but someone had to shut her up."

you replied, "i mean, i'm sure there was a nicer way."

"i tried," he told you with that small smirk on his face again. "she didn't get the hint, i have to be more obvious."

"yeah, in more ways than one," a friend on his side, sero, snickered.

"hey, what's that supposed to mean?!" classic katsuki, reverting back to yelling.

ever since that happened, your friends haven't stopped talking about it since. "guys, c'mon. it's almost been a week," you groaned. you were all getting ready in the school locker room to do hand-to-hand, no quirk combat with a celebrated instructor.

"i think bakugo likes you~" ochaco teased in a sing-songy voice.

you tried to reason, "maybe he was just annoyed with her, & it has nothing to do with me."

"i don't know, y/n," momo laughed, pulling her hair into a ponytail. "he seemed pretty into you."

"no way, not bakugo-"

"well, why not bakugo?" mina, who just so happened to be good friends with said man, asked while she slipped on her shoes.

"because we all know what he's like. he doesn't really scream the dating type, you know?" you grabbed a water bottle & locked your back into your locker.

mina shrugged, & ochaco said, "you said one time that bakugo was the closest to your type... do you like him?"

"WHAT?"

the rest of the conversation was cut short when tsuyu pointed out they should be in the training room by now, causing all the girls to scramble out of the locker room.

the instructor, once the bell rang, introduced himself. he was a nice man seemingly. he was a well-seasoned martial artist who knew what he was talking about.

after his brief speech, he had his assistant -a younger, more egotistical guy- be his dummy when explaining a move. "does anyone have any questions?" he asked. no one answered. "cool, find a partner, & try it out."

everyone scurried to find their partners. pair by pair, no one chose you... all except-

"hey you, be my partner," bakugo practically demanded.

"me?"

"no, the wall behind you. yes, you, y/n," he joked, the same smirk only you get to see on his face. this time, however, it was a full-blown smirk.

"are you sure?"

"yeah," he scoffed, dragging you by the arm to an empty space. he studied how your face contorted from surprise to concern. "listen, if you think you're gonna drag me down or whatever, you're not-"

"no, it's not that," you interrupted. you felt your pride inflate slightly.

"then what is it?"

"i just don't want to hurt you."

it was his turn to be shocked. what did you mean by that?

the first hour went by, techniques were taught, & moves were learned. however, now it was the time that really put things to the test: open spar. it was at this time in training when things got heated. everyone in the room gives it their all no matter what, so the atmosphere turns into something animalistic, yet so empowering.

but before that, is a small water break. speaking of water, where did you leave yours? you swear you brought it in. bakugo must've seen how confused you appeared when he offered (or told you), "here, take some of mine."

too thirsty to even care the open-mouthed expressions from your peers, you took the bottle from his outstretched hand. "thank you!" you cheered, taking a few sips then handing it back to him.

"was that even enough? you barely drank anything," he jested. it sounded like he was teasing you, but, again, he said something like he cared about your well-being.

"yeah, i'll be fine. the worst that can happen is i'll faint."

"you better not. i need a good training partner."

"oh whatever, you're getting a good training partner."

suddenly, the instructor boomed, "water break is over! get back with your partner for sparring!"

once everyone huddled back with their partners & got situated, the instructor explained briefly that everyone will be grappling ("no striking" he repeated ten times as well) five minute rounds, switch partners, another five minute round, & so on so forth. "alright got it?"

"yes sir!"

"good," he nodded to his assistant, who got the stop watch ready, "3, 2, 1, go!"

yoy & katsuki go into your stances. one thing about being shorter than him is that, in the game of wrestling, you're at in advantage at first. "don't go easy on me," you told him, it was meant as a warning

"i was just about to tell you i wasn't." the moment he finished, he took a double-leg shot. it was executed near flawless-- emphasis on the near.

you sprawled your legs back, collapsing your body on top of his. you drove your shoulder into his neck, which resulted in bakugo's face smushed against the mat. he might be strong, but no one's neck is that strong to hold up an entire person. you heard him audibly groan "fuck!"

you caught his arm & his head with one of yours. the two of you were on your knees, but your goal was to get him flat, stomach down. with his trapped arm & leg, you pulled him out from under you & quickly sped towards his back. you mounted him, keeping yourself close to his. you gazed up at your instructor, who gave you a knowing nod of approval.

like a good fighter, katsuki sprung his head up. he missed your nose, instead having his skull collide with your cheek. it hurt, but you had to keep going. "since when did you learn how to wrestle?"

"what do you mean?" you thought everyone knew. you swore that you've mentioned it in front of the class.

"you're fucking good, you know that?" he praised as he fought of your hands.

"you're not too bad yourself," you told him before you crossbody locked him.

"no, i'm being serious. you're too damn good. you're gonna be my partner every time we grapple."

you & bakugo, now you call him katsuki, have only grown closer since then. he would take time out of his study session to ensure you understood the material. before he could finish, the library assistant -a girl around your age- would ask if he needed help with anything, shy blush on her face.

other times he'd walk with you back to your dorms when a group of girls would ask for his number.

it was a constant occurrence; girls notice him, ask for something, then ultimately get rejected. it wasn't in a nice way either. he always degraded & humiliated them, but they'd let him because of how handsome he was.

it was a saturday afternoon where you & katsuki got food from a nearby convenience store & sat in the park. no scheduled training or overwhelming amounts of homework. he insisted on paying for you, & who are you to reject free food?

"okay, but i really have to ask," you started, eating your food, "why aren't you dating anyone?"

"i don't know," he simply put it, downing a bottle of a protein drink.

"you do know, you're just not telling me." you actually didn't know if that was true, you were just bluffing.

"fine, i'm just waiting for a some girl to realize i like her," he admitted so nonchalantly, as if he didn't drop a mind bomb.

your mood dampened. he was your dream guy, the more you hung out with him. you might have developed a crush on him, yet you didn't even realize he liked anyone else.

"no way! who?" you had to sound enthused or he would know something was up.

"no one, forget i said anything," he cleared.

"i want to know~ i can help find out her favorite flowers or something so you can confess!"

"really?" he asked, brow quirked. you nodded your head.

"tch, alright. what's your favorite flower?"

that didn't make any sense. "what?"

"you said that you're gonna help me confess, so what's your favorite flower?"

"katsuki, i don't think she has the same favorite flower than me."

"oh my god, you're so fuckin' dense," he muttered under his breath. "i want to know your favorite flower, y/n, so i can confess." his cheeks reddened as he gave you intense stare, studying your expression. it was still confused.

"confess to who-" he cut you off by putting his hand behind your head & pulling you into a kiss. it was gentle, passionate, & truly shocking to you.

"confess to you, idiot," he panted when the two of you pulled away. "i'm already here," he said with a fuck-it attitude.

"y/n, i've liked you for a long time, a really long time. i thought i made it obvious but you never really caught on cuz you're a dumbass or something."

you laughed, & he smiled at you.

he continued, "so then shitty hair told me i had to make it even more obvious, so that's what i've been doing this entire year."

"but all those girls-"

"yeah well i didn't know i was getting a fan club this year. honestly, they don't fuckin' matter though. what matters is you & i," he told you, his face still so close to yours. "so tell me, if you feel the same."

"i-i do," you stuttered out. in your defense, you were not used to such close proximity to anyone, let alone a sculpture chiseled by ancient greeks themselves.

"say it again," he said, voice deep & eyes half lidded. "i need to hear it again."

"i do, katsuki," you repeated per his request. "i really, really like you."

he pulled you into another kiss, & you both felt each other smile. it felt right.

[cdragons]

Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 4

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter. Masterlist

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. ...Well, maybe you also hated Annabel Williams as much - but you'd be damned before you let a drunk girl out in the hallway without helping her.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, Sex, Felix doesn't make an appearance (but still mentioned), Reader is a girl's girl, Annabel has an epiphany, Michael hates everyone BUT Reader, Farleigh is Farleigh, alternating POVs between characters, and author has spent too much time researching Oxford crap for this mess for a crack fic to be a crack fic. Also Oliver is barely in this chapter, but who cares about that asshat?

Author's Note: I am so sorry for the prolonged hiatus! It was not intentional! My classes have upped the ante in how much HW they gave me, and I got distracted by reading my old GOT fanfics and got ideas for it. BUT - thank you all who've been reading this fic and sharing wonderful comments! They really help push me to become a better writer!

You were caught in a bit of a pickle – granted, it was a voluntary pickle, but a pickle nonetheless.

…Okay, so quick recap of the events that transpired this week:

Regularly-scheduled Annabel tormenting you

Got sexually-harassed by Catton

Had a self-pity session at Bowin

Got found by Mikey Gravy

Olly, the psychotic backstabber/bootlicker, tried to pimp you out to Felix Catton.

You almost committed aggravated homicide of said pimp before Michael dragged you away.

You went to the movies to drool over Johnny Depp.

 You and Michael decided you would crash in his dorm room for the night…leading to your current predicament.

Right now, you were dragging an unconscious Annabel, who was drunk off her ass, with one arm flung over your shoulder as you tried to make get any information of where her dorm was out of her. It was a sad picture – mascara running down her cheeks, vomit from her mouth, and lipstick messily smeared across her face. The smell of vomit mixed with cheap booze was almost enough to make you want to drop her on the ground and leave her there if you hadn’t pitied her so much.

When you realized that you weren’t going to get anything out of her that didn’t involve projectile vomiting, you just decided to bring her to rest up in your dorm.

“I still don’t understand why you’re helping her,” Michael grunted.

Oh, yeah…and Michael was helping you, too.

“Because girl code, Gavey–” you grunted, lifting Annabel’s arm higher when you felt her slipping “–no man left behind – or well, no woman left behind in this case.”

“That’s the Geneva Code.”

“Same difference,” you groaned out. Fuck, how was this girl so heavy?

Michael’s face was getting flushed from the sweat running down his forehead. “So, girl code dictates that you have to help the bitch who’s been making your term hell?”

“Girl Code,” you huffed, “wait, hang on - she’s slipping - okay, there we go. ‘Girl Code’ is more of an honor code expected to be followed by all sisters on their journey to womanhood. And one of the most sacred rules in that honor system is that – fuck, she’s heavy – that if you see a sister drunk and unconscious, you make sure she gets home safe.”

“Or your matchbox dorm room, in this circumstance,” your friend grumbled.

You tiredly nodded. “Exactly! Besides, regardless of how heinous she is, it’s the right thing to do.”

“(Y/N), you realize she won’t be getting hypothermia, right?” Michael frustratingly groaned. “It’s late spring.”

“But that doesn’t mean there aren’t people out there who won’t take advantage of her in her current state. They’d say, ‘Oh, she was asking for it,’ or ‘she’s just imagining things, do you remember how hammered she was?’ And then it’ll be their word against hers.”

You went silent for a bit. “I don’t want that to happen to her. No one should have that happen to them – girl or guy, bully or friend.”

“Well, in any case,” Michael started as the two of you finally arrived at the beginning of your dormitory. “It’s lucky that your dorm is so close to mine. Are you sure you want her in there? There’s still the chance she’ll vomit all over your carpet if she misses the bucket or even your covers.”

You opened the door with your ID card. “I’ll just have to take that chance, I guess. Look, I’ll try to wake her up long enough to see if she remembers any of her friend’s numbers. If any of them pick up, I’ll tell them to pick her up.”

Michael looked at you with heavy doubt in his eyes. “And if they don’t? Pick up, I mean?”

“Then I guess we’ll be having a sleepover,” you sighed as you reached your room at the end of the hallway. “And then we’ll never have to see each other ever again when morning comes.”

Michael loudly snorted while you clumsily reached into your back pocket for your keys. “Don’t jinx yourself. With your bleeding heart, you’ll probably end up donating your liver to her if she doesn’t die of alcohol poisoning first.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, come one. Have a bit more faith in me – SHIT!” you exclaimed after you dropped your keys.

You quickly scrambled to the floor while Michael guffawed at your misfortune. You shot a quick glare at him to get him to shut up. The bespectacled bastard didn’t stop laughing until…like, three minutes passed. In response, you dropped Annabel’s arm from your shoulder to focus on finding your room key. You chuckled to yourself when you heard Michael curse to himself as he tried to balance the drunk girl’s weight without getting her too close to him. When you finally found it, you inserted it into the lock. You sighed in relief when the door opened. You were even more relieved that your roommate had decided to spend the night at her girlfriend’s dorm. You really didn’t want to have to explain to her why you were voluntarily helping the vile witch bitch who was actively trying to make your college years hell. Meanwhile, Michael grimaced and groaned as he held Annabel away from his body at arm’s length.

“Is sluttiness contagious through touch?” he asked.

“Unless pre-Sith Anakin suddenly pops into this hallway, I don’t think you’ll need to worry about that,” you snorted as you opened the door to let Michael drag the unconscious girl into the room.

Michael scoffed at your choice of Star Wars beefcake. “Bitch, please. Young Obi-Wan Kenobi was far superior.”

He went to the center of the room and released Annabel from his grip to let her unceremoniously fall on the floor, and her body made a soft ‘thump.’ You wrinkled your nose and grimaced at the pathetic nature of tonight. She looked less like the glamorous Oxford party ‘IT’ girl and more like one of those sad groupies who OD’d in their favorite rockstar’s pool from a house party. You didn’t know what the hell her story of tonight was – but it still didn’t mean she deserved to be left alone, slumped against a wall in a dirty hallway with vomit all over her.

You turned to Michael. “Okay! Off you trot!”

Your favorite bespectacled blonde nerd gave you a look of complete bewilderment.

“Seriously?” he asked. “Not even a thank you? I literally dragged her body here from my dormitory and risked being the first victim of a new STD contracted through skin contact.”

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics – if he weren’t such a numbers genius, he would have been the perfect theater kid.

“Don’t be such an incel,” you admonished. “It’s not a good look on you. And I carried more of her body weight than you, dumbass. If I left it up to you, we’d never get anywhere with your twiggy arms.”

You poked his arms in emphasis and snickered when he pouted. He crossed his arms and was about to leave when you pounced on him. A bit of Annabel’s “Britney Spears Fantasy” spray perfume soaked into his shirt, but other than that, he still smelled like himself. The scent of fresh laundry, freshly mowed grass, and spearmint toothpaste made you feel safe. His scent, combined with his body heat, enveloped you in comfort.

“Thanks, Mikey,” you whispered. “I know you didn’t have to help me, but you did anyway.”

Gavey wrapped his arms around you as he rested his chin on your head. He usually hated contact with anybody save his family, but you were always the exception. Michael should probably have warned you that the rotten and acidic odor from Annabel’s puke would ruin your shirt, but he just let himself replace her cheap perfume with your fragrance. The scent of your favorite honey and jasmine conditioner in your hair mostly covered the faint traces of turpentine and linseed oil on your skin.

“Of course I did,” he softly replied. “With your shit sense of direction, you would have ended up in the bottom of the ditch.”

You gasped and lightly pushed him away. “Uhhh, way to ruin the moment!”

Michael snickered at the way your jaw had dropped in shock and betrayal. You then resorted to mockingly punching him in the stomach as he did nothing to stop you. He couldn’t help but look at you in total and utter fondness as he continued to ‘beat him up.’

But in all honesty, Michael didn’t mind helping you. He loved it. He’d rather get Crucio-ed than say it, but you were his favorite person in the whole world. In a desert of fakes and masks of insincerity, you were like gentle rain with your genuine vibrance and rare honesty. He loved how endlessly kind and empathetic you were to others. He just hated it when you granted acts of kindness to the plebes unworthy of you. You’d give the benefit of the doubt to the worst of the worst on campus – Annabel being a case in point.

Remembering the drunk elephant in the room, Michael grabbed your fists and stared at you thoughtfully.

“Seriously, though,” he began, “why are you helping her? I know you told me about ‘girl code’ and all that. But is that seriously it?”

You thumped your head against his chest. “Look, I get it. Annabel is a horrible person, and with how awful she treated me – she doesn’t deserve my kindness, my help, or my pity. But that doesn’t change that it was the right thing to do. And if not us, who knows who would have picked her up? If another guy other than you ‘helped’ her…you do the math.”

A groggy voice broke the two of you apart. “Are you two going to shag? Because I can leave.”

You and Michael jumped apart as you watched Annabel lift herself from the floor and stagger to her feet. Her legs wobbled briefly before giving out, and then she fell to the floor. You turned to Michael and gave him one final hug before seeing him out. He looked disgusted at the girl sitting on the cheap carpet before turning to you, concerned. Mikey asked if you were confident you didn’t need him here to help you.

“I’ll take it from here,” you reassured him. You flexed your arm – 80s jock bully style. “I’m a tough girl. I carry my canvases and textbooks and everything, after all.”

“Okay,” he dragged out the last syllable. “But if you end up putting her down, give me a call, and I’ll help you bury the body.”

“Um,” interjected Annabel, “you know I’m right here, you arse.”

 “Hey,” you admonished, “he did help carry you here. He could have left you in that hallway alone.”

“Whatever,” she scoffed. “Probably did it so he could cop a feel, the slimy wanker.”

“Please,” Michael sneered, “as if I’d ever willingly touch someone with a higher body count than Dahmer and Bundy combined. I’m only here because I wanted to help (Y/N) – she’s the one who was worried about your sad self.”

Ugh, this was going to be a long night. You turned to Michael with apologetic eyes and reassured him that he wasn’t a wanker. You promised you’d make it up to him by buying all the Crunchie bars he wanted. Mikey’s eyes softened at your sincerity as he began to walk down the corridor to make the trek to his dorm.

You softly closed your door so as not to cause any further disturbance. When you turned around, you were startled by the dead stare Annabel was giving you. You looked down at your feet as you shifted uncomfortably in your spot. You cleared your throat to try and break the tension.

“Um, soooo…I’m glad you’re awake. You were sitting so still in that hall, I was worried you OD’d,” you nervously joked. But all she did was continue to stare at you. “So, do you have your phone with you? I figured it would be best if you called one of your friends. I’m sure they’re really worried about you. I know I’d be going out of my mind if one of my friends–”

“What kind of fucking game are you playing here?” she snarled. Her large, doe-brown eyes narrowed in anger as you stopped talking.

“Uhhh,” your mind was coming out blank. “Wait, I don’t – I don’t know what you mean?”

Annabel rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t play stupid. Why’d you help me? Did you want to take pictures of me drunk and unconscious?”

Your jaw fucking dropped. “What?! NO! I just–”

“I’m sure that would’ve made some fucking good blackmail material,” ignoring you and continuing, “I can see it: ‘Annabel Williams drunk in the hall after trying to shag fucking sad Ollie.’ You’re so obvious.”

You tried to explain yourself. “Okay, look- I think there’s a big misunderstanding here–”

“Or maybe you want to show the pictures to Felix, not that he’d care or anything. You got him all wrapped up in your little Yankee finger, you know that? It’s so pathetic and sick – it makes me want to–”

“HEY!” you yelled – finally making her just shut UP. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths to calm down. “Look, Michael and I were walking to his dorm when we saw you were sitting in the hallway. I tried to ask you if you had your phone on you and if you wanted me to call anyone, but you were out cold. And I couldn’t just leave you there, okay? That’s dangerous! And I didn’t know where you lived – you know, considering that you hate me–” you cut off your rambling with a deep breath “–so he and I dragged you to my dorm.”

The silence that followed was so stifling you wanted to open a window. Maybe if you let some fresh air in, it might calm the girl down. It would also help diffuse some of the puke odor stinking up your room.

“…Anyway, if you don’t have your phone on you right now, I can always call them myself. Do you remember their numbers? I know you and India are close. Do you think she’s available right now?”

More silence.

You began fidgeting. “I mean, you can stay over if no one is available? I don’t mind since my roommate is sleeping over–”

Annabel interrupted you again. “You’re so full of it. You just wanted to help me? For what? For the sake of being the goody-two-shoes kiss-ass, you’ve always been? Did you want me to bow and worship you?”

“Annabel,” you groaned, “it’s been a really long night, okay? And I don’t feel like arguing when you aren’t sober and in your right mind.”

“Oh yeah,” she bitterly laughed. “Be a pushover, and get everyone to love you. Tell everyone how much of a ‘heinous’ bitch I am. Play the victim – that’s all you’ll ever be. Just go back with your pathetic little nerd friend and be invisible and boring like the goody-goody who thinks she’s better than the rest of us.”

The quiet in the room was surprisingly loud. Shock and disbelief morphed into fury as your fists clenched so hard that your nails left red welts on your skin. Your body trembled in anger as your tongue felt too heavy to express everything you wanted to say.

‘Pushover’ she called you? ‘Play the victim,’ she said?

Who the hell was she to have any right to judge you? Did she have any idea what you’ve sacrificed? How much have you suffered and left behind? Could she even have the slightest decency to understand what you’ve been through? Of what she put you through?

…You know what? …Fuck her. Fuck Annabel Williams and all of Oxford’s elite. They were proof that Michael was right – that doing the right thing meant nothing to them.

Your voice was cold, and your eyes were numb. “…I’m going to take a shower,” you grab a towel and your shower buddy. “I want you to get the hell out of my dorm by the time I get back. Call your friend or don’t? Do whatever the hell you want. I don’t care.”

You slammed the door on your way out.

“Finally,” Annabel thought with some relief, “she’s gone.”

When you left, the room felt ten degrees colder the way the door slammed, and Annabel felt goosebumps form on her arm. This was the worst night of her life. She had never felt so humiliated.

Her mummy told her she was just born blessed because God knew she was exceptional, and she always believed that to be true. For her entire life, she was the girl every boy wanted to bed and the girl every girl wanted to be. She never had to fight for anyone’s attention. Her parents gladly bought her the latest versions of top-of-the-line technology. Her closet here and at her parent’s townhouse in Kensington was filled with designer-brand exclusives and limited-editions. She had everything.

For people like her, life was supposed to be easy. She was born at the top, so she would be there till the day she died.

So why was she losing to you?

When she came to Oxford, she figured it would be as easy as most of her life. She’d spend her time partying and networking with the right people. If she had to blackmail a nerd to take her classes or blow a teacher to give her an “A”? Who would say otherwise?

But then she met Felix Catton and finally felt she had met her match. Finally, there was someone who checked all the boxes: rich, tall, handsome, and fun. That part made Felix the golden sheep who stood above the rest of the flock – he was fun. Not only did he know how to have a good time, he knew how to properly fuck a girl, too.

She was so drunk off the taste of his lips and the feel of him around her – so much so that she broke her golden rule.

“Never fall first.”

Annabel felt herself falling hard for Felix Catton. She thought they were exclusive. He was her boyfriend, and she was his girlfriend. But then…he became distant. He stopped calling he and ignored her when they returned to campus after the break. But then he and she left the bar at Kings’ Crossing, and she was so happy! She wanted to cry when he kissed her hard and ripped her 100 quid top in half.

It didn’t matter if she wasn’t wet when he entered her. It didn’t matter that he didn’t wait for her to adjust when he started to thrust. It didn’t matter when she tried to moan his name; he would cover her mouth with his giant hand to shut her up. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t close to finishing when he came inside her. It didn’t matter when her windpipes were almost crushed when he fell on top of her after finishing.

They were together. He chose her! Annabel and Felix – Mrs. Felix Catton, she could see it now. They’d have a wedding in his house at Saltburn. She would have to meet his parents, but she wasn’t worried – all her flings’ parents loved her! They would be together forever, and nothing would ever–

“(Y/N),” Felix whispered above her – and Annabel’s world completely fell apart.

She immediately shoved his body off hers and hurriedly dressed before getting the hell out of his room. Annabel didn’t bother putting on her shoes before running with tears down her face to her dorm. And when she returned to her single, she flung herself to her bed and cried to sleep. She didn’t bother attending class that week – not when her heart broke.

Felix had been thinking about you – you. He called out your name after finishing. Was he imagining your naked body when hers was under him? Had he been imagining you every time he fucked her?

Annabel smelled Felix’s aftershave and wanted to rip the skin off her body. God, she never felt more like a whore in her entire life.

“God,” she thought, “I was so pathetic! How could I be so stupid to fall for Felix Catton? Why did I trick myself into hoping that we would be together?”

Felix wanted a good girl—like you—the American scholarship student who wanted to paint pretty pictures and was at the top of her classes. The lovely New Yorker who hung around losers and still held your head up high despite every professor thinking you were in over your head to come here. Some pushover bitch who was so pathetic and actually–

The door slammed open again, and Annabel’s pretty sure she’d scream if she weren’t so fucking tired. You came storming in with your towel and shower caddy in your hands, and your eyes were a raging storm while your lips were pursed like you had sucked a lemon. Your nostrils are flaring as you angrily breathe through your nose. Annabel was about to open her mouth, but you menacingly pointed at her with your pointer finger. It felt like forever until you finally opened your mouth.

“Look! We don’t have to be friends and I don’t expect us to be friends – but you know what? YES, I WOULD LIKE A THANK YOU! I dragged your unconscious ass across campus, and you REEKED of vomit and bad perfume! And not to body shame, but you are WAY TOO SKINNY to be healthy to be as heavy as you were when I carried you!”

“Excuse me?!” Annabel sputtered. “Who the fuck–”

“Oh! I’m not done!” you shouted. “I don’t know if you being horrible and a bitch is supposed to be some power trip or some shit, but it’s so cliché! Are we in Mean Girls? Are you Regina George? No, am I Janice from Lebanon? NO! And on that – I have a few bones to pick with you…MISSY!

I–” You pointed to yourself “–am NOT a pushover, okay? I fucking beat your stupid manwhore boy toy like it was goddamn ‘Whack o’ Mole’ for ruining my painting! Pushovers don’t do that!  FURTHERMORE – me calling you a ‘horrible person’ or ‘heinous bitch’ isn’t me ‘playing the victim’! You HAVE been a HORRIBLE person to me, alright? And what’s worse – I don’t have the slightest idea why! Was it something I said to you last term? Or were you born a spoilt princess who never had to work for anything in her life because mommy and daddy will always give you everything you want so you could forget that they would probably instead work than deal with their brat? Seriously – what is it? Because you’re driving me CRAZY!”

When you were done, Annabel sat on the floor, completely silent, and stared at you unblinkingly. She hadn’t expected you to come back so quickly – let alone to scream at her. She stared at your huffing and shallow breathing in awe and slight amazement. Your hair looked frazzled from your outburst, and your (e/c) eyes were bright with wild impulse.

Annabel felt her bottom lip quiver and stared at an ugly stain on the carpet. She didn’t want to show any more of herself than she had already. But what the hell? You already saw more of her than most of her so-called ‘friends.’ What was a little more? If she had to show more of the ugliest parts of herself, why not show it to someone she already hated?

Before she could stop herself, Annabel felt her shoulders sag and shake as sobs tore through her petite frame. Tears and snot were running down her face as she furiously tried to wipe them away – if nothing but to try and save some shred of dignity. Annabel was crying so much that she didn’t see the surprised look on your face morph to slight guilt since you thought you may gone too far with your rant. You reached out to tap her shoulder when you heard her speak.

“Why doesn’t he want me?” she sobbed. “What do I have to do to get him to love me?”

If you were taken aback by her crying, you were completely caught off-guard by her questions. You walked over to your desk and grabbed a box of tissues before crouching on the ground. You handed her a few tissues from the box and waved to her face to present them. Annabel noticed how you tried hard not to see how much her hand trembled when she reached forward to grab the tissues from you.

“Who?” you softly asked her. “Are you talking about Felix?”

Annabel blew her nose into the tissue hard. “Who else?! I mean…look at me! Everyone wants me! Everyone – boys, girls, teachers! Do you know how many of my past flings gladly emptied their pockets so I might wank them? But he wants you! What do you have that I don’t?”

Concern and pity shifted to confusion before realization kicked in, and you were so done with this conversation already. Maybe you were a slightly horrible person for this, but you felt so disappointed when Annabel told you that her entire drama with you had been over Felix Catton.

“…That’s why you’ve been tormenting me this entire term so far?” you flatly asked. “Because of Felix Catton?”

“He called out your name–” she gasped a heavy sob “– while he was fucking me! Do you have any idea how that feels?”

“Okay, wow,” you thought, “that’s actually really shitty – fuck.”

“Do you know how humiliating that was for me? He was still inside me, for fucks’ sake! I felt him shrink!”

Okay – that was so much more information about Annabel’s and Felix’s sex life than you ever wanted to know.

You coughed into your hand as your face flushed red. “Oh, um–I’ve never really…done it before. So…I wouldn’t really don’t know how that feels.”

“Ugh, of course, you’re a virgin,” she groaned. “Don’t tell me you don’t drink either.”

When you remained silent, Annabel let out a bitter laugh. “Damn, you think you’re hot shit and everything. But you really are a goody-goody. What – you saving yourself for God or some shit?”

“HEY! Just because I like to keep my head down and not a party and get plastered every five minutes doesn’t make me a goody-two-shoes. I just don’t like the taste of alcohol, and increased chances of lung cancer doesn’t exactly spell out ‘fun’ for me.”

But Annabel ignores your outburst and continues to dismiss you. “Yeah, right. I bet you call your mommy and daddy every night. Do you tell them that you miss them and want to go home? Or do you wish to bake cookies with your mummy as daddy watches the telly?”

Annabel’s taunting is only responded to with silence as she grows confused by your melancholic expression.

“…I can’t call them at all,” you respond. “International calls are too expensive. The best I can do is email or Skype. And planned calls can hardly be reliable since my parents’ schedules are always all over the place with their jobs.”

“When–” Annabel’s voice cracked “– when’s the last time you saw them? In real life?”

“I was supposed to see them during Christmas Break,” you bitterly explained, “but then Felix crashed into me when I was on my way to deliver it. He ruined my painting, and I had to redo it completely, not to fail and completely flush my parents’ money down the drain.”

“I thought you were here on scholarship? Doesn’t that mean you don’t have to pay to come here?”

“I’m here on a partial scholarship,” you explained. “It covers a good part of my tuition, but not all of it – and definitely not for housing and meal plans. Travel expenses alone were so expensive, so I had to leave alone. Mom cried so much at the security checkpoint, and Dad almost didn’t want me to go. I didn’t even want to go. But they wanted me to experience more of the world while I still could.”

“…Do you miss them?” Annabel asked. She felt silly asking a question with such an obvious answer. But, hearing how you talked about your parents crying their goodbyes to you compared to the simple wave she got hers after they dropped her off campus made her feel a deep longing.

You let out a shaky sob. “More than anything. You never realize how much you miss your home and family until an entire ocean separates you.”

Annabel uncomfortably shifted in her spot as she noticed your eyes getting misty. She couldn’t remember the last time she cried over missing her parents and felt that you were being overdramatic. Annabel spent her entire break with her parents at their house, but she couldn’t remember the last time they ate at the same table unless it was for one of her dad’s dinner parties. What did it feel like – to miss and love someone so much after not seeing them for a year?

What did it feel like – to have an entire lifetime of that kind of love?

Does having that kind of love make you?

“…Why did you help me?” Annabel finally asked. She couldn’t bear the tension anymore. “You could have just left me there. Why help me and bring me here of all places?”

“…Because it was the right thing to do,” you explained and shrugged. “You were drunk and vulnerable. Maybe it was fear of being a potential bystander if someone tried to take advantage of you – but I was scared something was going to happen to you. Regardless of my feelings toward you and yours toward me, no one should ever find themselves in a position where if they’re telling the truth, it’s someone else’s word against theirs. I’ve seen it too happen many times already.”

“What do you say in response to that?” Annabel thought to herself – shocked by how genuinely you answered her question. Since you were honest with her, she figured she could at least be honest with you.

“If it were you,” she began, “I wouldn’t have done for you what you did for me.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “you probably wouldn’t – but that’s neither here nor there. Because I’m me, and you’re you.”

“…Are you really not interested in Felix?” Annabel asked. She was surprised by your disgusted groan.

“Oh my god–” you put your face into your hands and loudly groaned “–I don’t understand why everyone has an obsession with this guy.”

Annabel raised her brow. “Seriously?”

“Yes! He’s so gross – I studied in an empty classroom last week. He sat next to me, basically propositioned me, and then put his hand on my thigh! Does that sound like someone I would want to date?”

“You know he’s just doing it to get your attention because he likes you, right?”

You scoffed at her input. “Pffft– and that makes it alright of him to invade my personal space via sexual harassment? I hate how everyone makes excuses for him – and why? Because he’s richer than God and has an ‘alright-looking’ face? So what?”

“Oh, believe me,” snickered Annabel, “he’s more than just ‘alright-looking’ and he fucks as good as he looks.”

You sagely shook your head. “A person like that has nothing to offer himself. He desperately clings to his family’s wealth and the benefits of his status so tightly – and he pretends not to enjoy it, but he’s the type of person to love leeching on someone’s misfortune to feel better about himself.”

You shuddered as you remembered Felix’s constant leering at you since the term began.

“He’s like a vampire – I’ve seen enough of them in high school to recognize them from miles away.”

Annabel was utterly silent at your analysis of Oxford’s Golden Boy. She never considered the possibility of someone out there who didn’t absolutely covet and revere him. She assumed that you were purposely playing ‘hard-to-get’ to get his attention, but maybe you were sincere in his disgust by him.

“Plus, he looks like the type to be absolutely shit at foreplay and only knows how to stick it in.”

Annabel was so caught off-guard by your statement that she immediately burst out laughing. You were surprised by her reaction and started to laugh, too. She was laughing so hard that tears started rolling down her cheeks, and her stomach started to hurt.

“HE IS!” she agreed while nodding. “He does the bare minimum! I’ve been giving him constant blowjobs, and I can count the number of times he’s eaten me out with one hand! The only type of prep he knows how to do is finger me!”

“Oh my god! EW!” you guffawed. “Why did you put up with him for so long?!”

Annabel shrugged. “He’s the most popular guy on campus – even the upperclassmen adore him. I was always the popular girl throughout primary and secondary prep. It just made sense.”

“My parents told me college was all about discovering new things about yourself,” you said. “Maybe…you could do that for yourself.”

Annabel looked wistful before nodding. “Yeah…you know this doesn’t mean we’re friends, right?”

You rolled your eyes. “Please, tonight’s the last night I’m willingly dealing with a demon like you. I’ll stick to forcing Michael to watch my favorite Johnny Depp movies—thank you very much.”

Annabel watched your eyes soften at the mention of your friend…Michael Gravy? Was he the guy who left the two of you together after snarking at her?

…Oh god, it all made sense now.

“Are you and Gravy fucking?” she bluntly asked. She huffed in amusement at how red your face became as you began to sputter.

“WHAT?! No-NO! We’re friends!” you exclaimed before getting all shy.

“You were awfully protective of him a bit ago to be ‘just friends,’” Annabel countered. “Spill it – what’s going on between you two?”

“He’s my best friend,” you explained to Annabel. “He let me stay with his family after I finished repainting my assignment – which was really amazing of him.”

She watched how you smiled when continuing to talk about him.

“I know he can seem a bit odd and rude at first,” you continued. “But Michael is one of the best people on campus. He can be really sweet when you get close to him – especially when he talks about his family. His little sister, Lily, is so adorable! He’s a total nerd but a complete sweetheart when you get to know him.”

Annabel bemusedly watched as you gushed about your ‘best friend.’ It was almost sweet how gone you were for the nerd. You didn’t even realize how gone you were for him. For a bit, Annabel could see why Felix was so enamored with you.

“Well,” she interrupted as she stood up, “I guess your obliviousness to your feelings isn’t any of my business or whatever. Thanks for…helping me – it was really nice of you.”

You warmly smiled at her. “Sure! Do you have to meet anyone tomorrow morning?”

“Uh, no?”

You walked to your closet and grabbed a towel, a worn T-shirt, and old sweats. You handed them to her as Annabel looked at you in confusion.

“Since you’re here,” you began, “and it’s already like…3 a.m. – you might as well shower and stay over since tomorrow’s Saturday.”

“…Why?”

“You still have puke all over you,” you explained, “and it’s getting really hard pretending it’s not extremely gross. Plus, I can’t imagine you’re comfortable right now.”

“What’s with the clothes?”

You shrugged. “Well, I can’t exactly have you sleep in your dress and ruin my sheets! You can shower and sleep on my bed while I sleep on my roommate’s. Now, are you going to take them?”

Annabel hesitated before she took the bundle from your hands. You then opened the door. While holding it, you looked at her as if expecting her to follow you. What confused her most was the way she did exactly that.

While in the shower, she didn’t even mind that you didn’t have any of her usual hair products. Your conditioner looked like it was bought at a cheap dollar store – you didn’t even have a loofah. But when she exited the shower stall before drying herself with your towel and changing into your baggy clothes, she felt calmer than she had these past few weeks. As she crawled under your sheets and comforter, you turned off the night and wished her good night.

Annabel stared at the ceiling for about an hour before she grabbed her phone. She managed to find it while digging through her dress pockets. She was going to wash it when she got back to her dorm. Opening it, she rolled down at the dozens of messages from India and their girlfriends. Her eyes slightly widened at the soft *ping* her phone let out when she got a new message to show it was from Felix.

To her surprise, she didn’t feel anything. She didn’t care he messaged her that he had forgotten their plans. Staring at her screen, she just felt…nothing. So she did the very thing she should have done weeks ago.

She deleted Felix Catton’s number from her contact list.

Annabel slept better that night than she had all term.

After that night with Annabel, life simply went on. She and you weren’t ‘friends’ per se, but she no longer went out of her way to torment you like she had done before. She even told off some of her friends when they talked about you behind your back.

You two weren’t friends, but you hoped that there was at least some fraction of mutual respect. If you couldn’t be friends, then at least you two didn’t have to be enemies – you were happy to settle for being a ‘frenemy.’

You found yourself sitting by yourself at one of the tables in the library. Michael had to meet with one of his teachers about an essay but promised to meet with you as soon as he finished. You were repeatedly listening to Carrie Underwood’s “Before He Cheats” when you heard the chair next to you being pulled out.

Fully expecting it to be Felix, you were ready to tell him to fuck off and bother some other poor soul that needed saving, but you were surprised to find that the person sitting next to you was his cousin, Farleigh Start. He introduced himself by stating his name and giving you a firm handshake. There wasn’t much you could do but reciprocate.

“Quite the save you gave our Annabel,” Farleigh grinned. “Very magnanimous of you, especially considering how she treated you.”

“What do you want from me?” you blurted out. “I’m busy, and I would appreciate it if you just left so I can continue studying.”

You weren’t normally so rude, but this was Felix Catton’s cousin – and if this was a ploy to get you in his pants, you wanted no part of it. But your skepticism only seemed to please the boy sitting beside you more. His wry grin curled into a wide Cheshire Cat smile as he continued to stare at you with eager fascination.

Farleigh started to lean toward you, and you instinctively leaned away from him. You eyed him with extreme caution as if he were a mad scientist and you were a paralyzed specimen. And his eyes looked like he couldn’t wait to cut you open.

“I like you,” he stated. “Let’s be friends.”

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[supercap2319]

I was wonder if you could do an x male reader for Peter Hale. Where it’s Young Peter and Peter just realized male reader is his mate after catching his scent. And he just trips on his own face in the middle of the high school halls because that where Peter first caught their scent

Peter learned about mates from such a young age. His older sister, Talia, would tell him stories of what it would be like to have and mate, and when Peter would find his, he would know. He thought that Corinne might be his true mate. She was cute enough, but maybe it was more hormonal than true love.

He pushed his way through the hallways of Beacon Hills. Nothing bad or exciting ever happened here. Peter's family was the only pack in town. Of course, there were the Argents, specifically, Chris Argent, in almost every single one of Peter's classes. Peter knew that he would turn out to be just like the rest of his family. Hunters. Hunters of Peter's kind. Of werewolves.

Maybe Peter would go visit his sister after school and his two year old nephew, Derek. Catch a movie or go for a run in the woods. Whatever Peter's original plans were going to be were put to a stop as he inhaled something sweet and sharp. Almost like a cinnamon scent. Peter felt his inner wolf howl with delight as his eyes flashed gold for a second, and his claws and canines came out. What the hell was going on? Why was he shifting in the middle of the hallway....

Then Peter saw him: Y/N L/N.

Y/N was on the basketball team with Noah Stilinski. He was a golden boy. He was kind to all, and he was fucking burning Peter's nose with his scent. The smell of cinnamon was all over him, and Peter realized that this mortal boy was his mate. A male was his mate? Who would have guessed it?

Peter was so caught up in Y/N's smell that he accidentally tripped over his own two feet and came crashing to the floor in the middle of the hallway. Books, pens, papers, and Peter's Walkman of Nirvana went all across the floor. The sounds of laughter and ridicule were heavy on Peter's ears as the entire hallway saw his little slip up and started laughing and pointing at him.

The young werewolf would have gladly tore through everyone in school, especially, Argent, but the calming scent of his mate filled his nose, and Peter watched as Y/N kneeled down beside him and helped him pick up his stuff. "Shit, man. You okay?" Y/N asked once Peter was on his feet again.

Peter's head was still dizzy from his mate's scent, and it took everything Peter had not to take him right then and there in the hallway. He swallowed. "Yeah. Thanks, man. Guess I slipped on the floor wax." It was a lame excuse, but Y/N didn't seem to be interested in Peter's lies. He was looking at a cassette Peter's Walkman had dropped. "Dude, you like Pearl Jam and Metallica too? I love these guys."

Peter looked at him and smirked. "Me too. Maybe we should hang out sometime and listen to them?"

"Definitely." Y/N smiled.

The bell rang as Y/N looked at Peter. "Better get to class. Hope you're okay, Peter."

"Thanks for the help, Y/N." Peter smiled as the young man flashed him a smile and left as Peter finally found his mate.

[eth4n-offlin3]

What if? - Scar was found by cientist's in TCD, leading him to Japan, where he could start a new life Or Grian is surprised by a new student.

Hell.

That's a great definition for how his life had turned out in such a short time. And it had all just started with an incident that wasn't even his fault, it was wonderful to know that, in an ironic way, of course. Honestly, he hated knowing that he was practically trapped in that city, he was a minor and he couldn't go back alone, he actually could, but if Sam found out about it… It wouldn't be pretty for him.

He told his brothers everything, he was always like that, he was communicative about his things, but S@m almost finding out about that made him freak out, he couldn't risk so much. T̶a̶u̶r̶t̶i̶s̶    Grian walked through the school corridors without trying to think too much about his current situation. Sam and Yuki walked behind him, talking animatedly as if it were just another ordinary day. It wasn't such a long walk until they reached the classroom. Grian let out a low sigh as he walked to his desk.

Another day, he hoped he wouldn't make it out alive this time.

But, unlike his boring Monday routine, the teacher didn't start the subject immediately, which made Grian and the other students confused about everything, but, suddenly, a tall student was at the door of the room, his nervous expression and extremely tidy uniform showed him the obvious. A new student. The new student was a little unusual for that class, not to say anything bad, of course, but compared to them he was... Normal, honestly. His main feature was gentle. He had several, no, many scars on his body. His hair was brown and a little long, below his shoulders, but he had an awkward bun behind his head, holding the rest of his hair, his eyes were green, they looked like pure emeralds, not those fake ones that are sold in cheap ring stores, he waited for the teacher to ask him to come in, which didn't take long for the teacher to give the command. He entered the room, silence prevailed for a few seconds, and the teacher just started, the usual tired tone making itself present, while he just gave some instructions alone to the student, before speaking to the entire room, Grian's wings moved curiously, but Sam just held it for a few seconds, transmitting the message for him to stop this nonsense with his wings, fear, taking over the body of the shorter one just shrank his wings, paying attention to the teacher who was trying to get the class's attention, which he consequently succeeded in doing. — “Attention everyone…” - The teacher said, seeing the room go silent, a slightly satisfied smile forming on his face, knowing that room that, honestly, did not stop for even a second, that was a somewhat rare event. - “We have a new student, he came from far away, from the United States. Please treat him well and with respect, now, introduce yourself, please.” The new student seemed nervous about such an idea, but he took a deep breath before he started speaking. His tone was low at first, but he just spoke again, this time making sure the whole class could hear him. 

— “Uh.. My name is Scar, as the teacher said, I come from America.. I'm an exchange student and I'm still learning Japanese..” - The elf said, observing the room, remembering what he learned, leaning forward, speaking again to the class - “I hope to have a good relationship with everyone here.” Then he stood up again, this time looking at the floor, the shame clear on his face, but the teacher just called him, pointing to where the boy would sit, pointing to the place right behind me, and soon, he said, apparently, my luck wasn't so good. 

— “That's Grian over there, and right in his back, there’s a sit, you can stay there, right after class, Grian, could you show Scar the school please? Along with Sam, since you two are so inseparable” - The teacher laughed lightly, but Scar just went to his place, sitting down and picking up his material, I watched him for a few seconds, but soon I turned to Sam, who was watching Scar with a look that, honestly, I knew very well. Maybe the new student wasn't so lucky after all...

The class went by incredibly faster than I expected, and so, Sam and I had to show Scar around the school, something that didn't excite me, but with no choice, we both took Scar to some places in the school, showing him around, because let's be honest, we didn't want to go back to class.

We were formed in a horizontal row, Sam was in the middle, his arm around Scar, while I was on the side, showing him around the school and telling him some details, and with that, some school rules and which ones you couldn't break and some that not even the principal cared about anymore. But then, the rabbit hybrid released the elf. We were in a less busy part where there weren't many employees, the old gym that was no longer used, because of the rabbit hybrid himself. I knew that place very well. Scar looked at Sam confused, but soon, he asked in a confused tone. As he asked his question, Sam approached me, standing next to me. A sadistic and sincerely crazy smile painted his face. Gods, how I hate that smile. 

— “So, is this the end of the tour?” He asked, genuine curiosity in his voice, but Sam just laughed and fiddled with his school shirt, taking out his knife, a gift from his girlfriend, also crazy. Then, I felt the cold metal on my neck, but it wasn't the rabbit, it was his girlfriend herself. She covered my mouth so that no abrupt sound, like a scream, would come out of my throat. It was a scheme. They were going to hurt the new student. — “You know, Scar…” - Sam began, slowly approaching the new student, who was still looking confused, but seriousness took over his curious eyes, I wanted to scream, tell them not to do that, not to someone who had just arrived, it would be the same story that happened to me. - “You seem like a nice person!.. But we have to give you a proper welcome.”

And then, he pointed the knife at the elf’s neck, that was it, he would die in front of me just like Taurtis went into a coma in front of me, the story would keep repeating itself. But, Scar’s eyes showed no fear, his breathing was light, furtive, he laughed lightly, I was confused, why would anyone laugh in a situation like this? — “You should know who you’re messing with, bunny.” - The elf said, everything happened too fast, but the next thing I knew, Sam was on the floor, and the knife was in Scar’s hands, he was twirling it between his fingers, playing with the dangerous object, the strength Yuki was holding me was slowly decreasing, the shock of it was clear, the new student prepared himself, seeing Sam get up, preparing to fight, Scar, on the other hand, just smiled, dropping the knife on the floor, making the metal make a light noise that echoed in that old gym, and Yuki moved away, still holding me so that I wouldn’t do anything, but I was prepared in case I had to go help her boyfriend.

And then, the fight began, Scar was precise in his blows, as if he had done it a thousand times before, it was the first time I had seen Sam scared, he was scared of the newbie. Grian was surprised by all of that, but his conscience knew that right after all that, Sam would take out his anger on him. Watching that fight didn't make me scared anymore, but unfortunately, Scar ended up letting Sam get his knife again, and despair appeared in his eyes for a few moments, but he just took a deep breath, and prepared himself again. Sam tried to hit Scar, well, he tried, because all his attempts were failures, so he made a sign, a sign calling someone. And Yuki, seeing this, ended up letting go of me, running towards them. I wasn't fast enough to be able to hold her, but I knew what they would do. I wanted to help, but I was weak, I had no way to defend Scar, but I could use the things there. I looked around, looking for something that could help the elf, but that gym didn't contain anything. Damn, how could he help Scar in such a way??

Then, everything seemed to be in slow motion. Yuki approached behind Scar, who didn't notice her, and then, the knife hit him, near his lower ribs. The knife, still in the new wound, was moved to the right, making a deep and bloody cut. The tears that were in my eyes now came out, not blood. Please.I just got closer, while Scar was now on his knees, taking deep breaths to try to distract himself from the pain, but it didn't seem to work, as I got closer, Sam ended up pulling me, the cynical smile on his face as he now said to Scar, the bell, ringing at the end of his speech, showing that we were out of the room for an entire class.

— “Maybe you, Scar, should learn not to mess with me, right, Taurtis?” - He asked me, scared, I just agreed, still watching the new student, then, Sam pulled me towards the exit, but I couldn't leave the new student alone, I had to have an excuse, fast.

— “I uhm.. I missed something here! I'll go right after you...” - He said. Sam looked at me for a few seconds, but soon shrugged and held his girlfriend's hand, heading towards the exit while they talked about what they did, as if it was the most normal thing of all. I waited for them to leave, glancing at Scar, seeing him trying to cover the wound, but failing, he just looked at me, his tone sounding low, but through the empty place, his voice echoed slightly, but he didn't seem to mind. — “I.. Hate to do this, but can you help me? I'll give you the necessary instructions, I just.. Need help.” - He said, then I crouched down beside him, looking at the wound, looking at Scar for a few seconds, it took a while for him to realize my expression, which was at least worried, while tears came out of my eyes, then he just added, nervousness taking over his voice - “I'm going to a hospital later! I just don't want anyone to see right now and- sorry for all this, uh.. Grian! That's it, Grian.”

You know, his name always came after some kind of insult or lecture, comparison and negative things, he liked his name, his brothers, the only ones who didn't call him negative things, but still, it was loaded with pain most of the time, the times he told what happened, what Sam did and how he just wanted to go back home. But this time, it wasn't loaded with any of those things, it was for an apology. Something he wasn't used to receiving anymore, he always apologized, but they never did it to him, hearing Scar say his name brought him a good feeling. Maybe, he really could have a friend But he shouldn't focus on that, not now. Scar called his name again, and he now paid attention, waiting for instructions, which he did immediately, just making a bandage. Scar was strangely good at it, but could it be because of his scars, maybe? Well, he didn't know exactly, but he wouldn't ask him about his scars, it would be rude to do so. After finishing the bandage, the other just stood up, looking at the blood on the floor, letting out a loud sigh, but he just watched my bloody hands. I just stood up, trying not to pay too much attention to it, it brought back bad memories. 

Then, he did something I didn't expect, he carefully held my wrist, walking out of the place, with some difficulty, but being able to walk was fine for him. He stealthily walked to the men's bathroom, only taking me to the sinks, then speaking to me again

— “I didn't expect my day to be so welcoming...” he said, laughing lightly. “But if he comes to try to hurt me again, I won't hold back.” — “Were you.. holding back?” - I ask, washing my hands, watching the blood slowly come out of them, I was impressed, he hurt Sam easily, and he didn’t even look in pain! Was he from some kind of gang in the United States? 

— “Well, let’s say yes. But, if I had a gun, it would be just a single shot to his head, and boom! Problem solved.” - He said, naturally, I just turn off the sink, looking at him scared, he just looks at me, nervous, his laugh sounding also nervous as he tries to explain himself - “uh- sorry, force of habit I shouldn’t have said that, but not that I have a gun, of course! If not I wouldn’t have even entered the school and heavens, that would be crazy… Sorry” 

Seeing his nervousness made me laugh slightly, but he had probably been trained by someone, some kind of Yakusa or something, because in Japan, only they have access to weapons. So, it would be the most logical option, but I just say, the tone this time calmer than when we first met, the tears had already stopped, and now, a light smile took over my face — “Don’t worry, honestly, I’ve heard worse. Now come on, I don’t want to miss recess by staying in the bathroom, Sam would get mad at me.” - I say, just leaving the bathroom, Scar right behind me, but soon standing next to me, starting to talk to me, he talked a lot, but that didn’t bother me, I always preferred to listen to others, anyway. 

You know, maybe that wasn’t real hell, and this time, I have a new friend.

[moralesmilesanhour]

if you believe in me - 01

summary: You and Miles decide to make it official. Kind of. wc: 763 warnings: none a/n: I love setting my characters up for failure <3

next

Miles hadn't texted you at all since the kiss, but not for lack of trying.

He would begin to type out a message:

"hi".

No, too empty. Perhaps a bit creepy. 

Backspace.

"hey :)"

Would you expect him to use smiley faces? No, it felt too different to how he spoke in real life. Backspace.

Maybe he should rip a page out of his classmates' playbook. It always seemed to work for them when he peered over at their screens.

"wyd?"

He frowned at his phone in bewilderment. Why would he ask that all of a sudden with no context? 

Backspace. 

"Hey, Y/N! Just checking in to see how you're doing."

Miles mentally cursed himself when he realized how much the text sounded like an email.

He flopped down onto his bed in defeat, and checked his digital alarm clock. 7:30 pm. He had been sitting there for an entire half hour and could hardly get a greeting out, probably leaving you to wonder why the boy who had literally kissed you last week couldn’t be bothered to send a text. 

Miles knew that today would be special when his phone alarm actually woke him up - and from a dreamless sleep, at that. Normally the sun would practically blind him after the curtains were thrown open by his mother, yelling frantically about how he was going to be late in half an hour. The sky was miraculously just turning a periwinkle blue outside, and the possibility of actually getting breakfast seemed within reach for once.

Miles squinted to read the menu above him. Ordering a spicy beef patty before 8 in the morning sounded like a poor dietary decision, so he went with a bacon egg and cheese sandwich like everyone else. As soon as he backed up from the counter, he made the mistake of glancing to his right at the fridge containing drinks on the other side of the bodega, and his stomach dropped.

Your jacket was instantly recognizable, even from a mile away.

Miles threw on his hoodie and shuffled over to the aisle behind him, where he pretended to be preoccupied with a container of instant coffee while trying to keep his face covered. When he saw movement in his periphery, he ducked his head and inched his way towards the freezer that contained his prized can of Arizona tea. He was about to reach for the handle, just inches away from success, when your voice stopped him:

“Morales?!? Where the hell have you been?”

Fuck.

“Hey,” Miles gave you a tight smile as he turned slowly to face you. “How…how are you?”

“I’m good,” you nodded, before lightly smacking him in the arm. “Haven’t heard from you in a minute, though. Why I ain’t catch you in class?”

The boy shrugged. “I dunno. Still in the same seat every day. Maybe you just missed me.”

As he said this, Miles recalled seeing you in the cafeteria while making his way upstairs  the other day and ducking behind a trash can before your eyes could meet. You having gone back to your regular seat in AP Calc made avoidance even easier; he could simply time when he went over to his seat, a small crowd of students providing ample cover.

“Chopped cheese!” a man called out from the front, interrupting his thoughts.

“That’s me,” you said with a grin. 

“”Bacon egg and cheese!”

“And that’s me,” Miles replied as he spun around to retrieve his order, making sure to leave room for you to pass behind him after grabbing your sandwich.

Once outside, he realized that you were staring at him. Not just in passing, but expectantly. Was he meant to do something?

“What?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

“You like me, right?”

“I-um…yeah,” Miles’ eyes darted away from your face. “I don’t think I’d kiss anybody I didn’t like.”

“Don’t get smart with me, you didn’t text me at all afterwards. I was starting to get the wrong impression!”

He snorted, “Well, now you’ve got the right one.”

“Sooo…” you tilted your head. “Does that mean we’re like, a thing now?”

He tensed at the suggestion. ‘A thing’. You’d think it was obvious what that meant, but what did it really mean in tenth grade? Sit at home and kiss a lot? 

But your smile began to falter the longer he took, and the sight stung him.

“I guess we are,” Miles finally replied. He looked down. “What are you doing?”

“Holding your hand, duh!”

He let you intertwine your fingers with his, tentatively squeezing them in return.

[neiptune]

something's not quite right with them

c/w: 2.4k wc, the secret history au, implied incest, implied dark themes, gojo and suguru and everyone else are secretive annoying & disgustingly elite students, the dark academia setting just really does it for me idk i want to play around with dark themes more

PART 2

The library is empty enough to give you less excuses not to focus on what’s in front of you, thick books piled on top of each other and messy notes taken on isolated pieces of paper you keep forgetting to arrange in an order that would make sense.

Most of the students have travelled back home for christmas but you’re too behind on your study plan and had decided that staying would’ve made you more productive than joining your parents on a christmas trip to Salzburg. What an idiot.

The only things you’ve been able to focus on during the past hour are the specks of dust lazily dancing in the winter sun filtering through the tall windows, and the group of people sitting two tables away from you. Their presence there is so unusual one might guess it holds the reason of almost every single stare in the room locked to them, hesitation laced with morbid curiosity. But, truth be told, they’d be alluring anyway, anywhere.

There’s something weird and unnerving about how they carry themselves, always so elegant and eerily enticing. It doesn’t help that they’re almost never around, only attend one class and spend their time exclusively with one another.

To state that you never wondered what went down behind closed doors on evenings and Sunday mornings would be a lie. An entire classroom shut down, barricated for just six people and the only professor you’d refused to endear yourself to would pique anyone’s interest.

You don’t like them, therefore you never had any reason to feel lured enough to attempt a conversation like so many have, with fairly disappointing outputs no less. You don’t like the haughtiness embedded in their attentive stares, the smug sense of superiority surrounding each component of the clique like a nebulous haze that bodes ill.

You don’t like how that Utahime girl constantly sits on her sister Shoko’s lap, letting the latter card thin fingers through her hair so languidly one might get the wrongest idea. You don’t like the contrast posed by that bubbly Yu guy, always far too excited to discuss whatever it is they study in their stupidly exclusive, obsolete literae humaniores class. You don’t like Nanami Kento and his insufferable, stoic expression: he looks like he’s carved in stone, the cold and sharp-edged kind.

You definitely don’t like the best friends, Suguru and his sickeningly condescending smiles, Satoru with his infuriatingly cocky smirks and jokes blurted out loud in Latin or Greek to complete strangers passing by their table, only to laugh at their confusion. You can’t quite put your finger on it but those two have some odd dynamic going on, although you’ve never been one to believe the weird rumors suggesting secret relationships, clandestine gatherings at night or straight up incest. People love to make up stories about popular students they can’t approach and the group certainly is weird enough to fuel some unusual fantasies.

Still, that Gojo guy sometimes looks at his friend like he’d want to swallow him whole and you swear you’ve seen Geto tilt his head up with a gentle hold of his chin more than once, speaking in soft murmurs only inches away from his lips.

Whatever they have going on, it’s none of your business. But you do wonder what they learn in that class, if their exams are any different from yours, where the hell they disappear to from time to time, why they all stayed instead of travelling home for the holidays. Don’t they have families? Are the perfect, most elite students of the already disgustingly elite college having trouble keeping up with their study plan too?

Lost in your thoughts, you notice Suguru’s sharp gaze suddenly darting to yours a second too late. You instantly bring your focus back to the notes you have messily scattered across the table but Satoru’s distinctive, petulant chuckle travels all the way to your ears and your hold on the pencil grows a little tighter.

You don’t dare look in their direction again and actually end up getting some work done, taking short breaks every now and then only to reply to your roommate’s texts. Thank god she’s more than a few states away, Hina is never one to shy away from challenges and she also fell victim of an irrepressible (and, quite honestly inexplicable) fascination with the Classics gang, as she likes to call them. She’d meet Geto’s gaze and bluntly ask if she could join their table with one of her charming smiles, not even bothering to mouth the question or get up to discreetly inquire. She wouldn’t care about heads turning and strangers whispering and you can’t shake the feeling that they’d actually end up indulging her. If as a cruel joke or out of genuine interest, you’re not sure.

As you rise from your seat to start collecting all the exam prep materials, a single glance is all you allow yourself. It’s enough. Suguru is elegantly supporting his head on hands clasped underneath his chin, the thought of his feline eyes having been set on you the entire time teasing your spine with a shudder. Satoru follows suit: he’s been clearly chewing the top of his pen and he lets it rest between his pearly teeth as thin lips stretch into a cheshire smile right as your gaze slips away again, the attempt at giving yourself some sort of composure seemingly amusing him.

You clear your throat and unceremoniously shove books and notes into your leather backpack, the pads of your fingers growing increasingly cold as the air in the library suddenly changes. There are less students sitting at the dark, agarwood tables now, the sunset must be a mere half an hour away and for some silly reason, the greenish glow the little electric lamps cast over the chestnut of the shelves and the burgundy of the walls turns unsettling.

It’s nothing, you tell yourself. Then why are your hands shaking while you gather the few remaining tomes you couldn’t fit in your bag?

Let them look if they want to. You’re going to keep your head up and march by their table and the disturbing, fleeting moment will recede to the back of your mind as soon as you’re out of the library, free to focus on a matter of the uppermost importance: what the hell to get for dinner.

Still, the tweed of your skirt feels itchy on your legs and the opaque black tights are sticking uncomfortably to the skin. You hope the way you loosen your tie is casual enough, as opposed to the booming clacking of your chelsea boots along the polished pavement.

You know you’re not imagining the way the table grows silent as you approach it, every nerve deemed alert by gazes still stubbornly, shamelessly fixed on you. And yet, if they think you’re going to attempt some sort of approach, they better brace themselves for a big, fat, disappointing—

“Excuse me?” his voice is as soft as velvet, melodious in a way you never would’ve guessed. It stops you in your tracks and, for some reason, makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up at the same time.

Suguru offers one of his saccharine smiles when you meet his eyes.

“We have a debate going on. Perhaps you could help us settle it”

Utahime is staring at you with an arched brow, not entirely hostile but indifferent enough to make it clear she’s far from being interested in your opinion on whatever matter. Her sister’s arms are loose around her slim frame, one hand comfortably resting on her naked thigh, skirt sitting shockingly high on her legs. Shoko doesn’t smile but shfits slightly forward in her chair when you glance at her, head tilted to the side in quiet anticipation.

“I doubt it” you reply, not adverse either but certainly resolute enough to elicit a chuckle. Yeah, you don’t fucking like that Yu guy.

“Oh, come on” Geto softly reclaims your attention once more “I’d love to hear your opinion on the matter”

“She doesn’t have any valuable opinion on the matter. Let it go, Suguru” Utahime starts to impatiently tap on the book in front of her with a pencil.

He hums, seemingly pensive.

“Is that so?” the fake disappointment in his voice makes a vein on your forehead throb.

You narrow your gaze and shift the weight of the books you’re holding to your left arm. Whatever stupid game or bet this is, perhaps it’s time for someone to teach these assholes the school is far from being their personal playground.

“What debate?”  

Gojo’s smirk isn’t but a teasing curve in your peripheral.

“Some of us believe that Roman literature is too derivative of the Greek one to be deemed original” Suguru doesn’t add a question to his statement, he simply leaves it hanging in the air as he waits for you to bite.

And hell, you do.

“Only because genre-defining works are all in Greek. But should all epics be judged against Homer? Should all history be judged against Herodotus, all comedy against Aristophanes?”

Nanami’s eyes lazily travel to you for the first time but you don’t falter, nor you let Utahime’s scoff distract you from Geto’s magnetic gaze.

“So we shouldn’t compare, say, De Rerum Natura to any of Epicurus’ writings?” the challenge he offers is polite. You simply shrug.

“You could, but would that take away the fact that it remains one of the most original pieces of all ancient literature? Lucretius was the first one to write a didactic epic about philosophy. Latin literature found an innovative way to build depth and exist within an already established tradition, why would you reduce it to being merely derivative?”

He stares back for a moment too long before offering another one of his enigmatic smiles.

“It’s six to one, Hime” Yu grins as he faintly throws an eraser that hits her arm.

“Oh, give me a fucking break” she groans, gaze now fiery confronting yours “Latins were assimilators, borrowers. I’m willing to bet your ignorance goes as far as arguing that everything Virgil has ever written won’t be forever inferior to anything Homer’s ever thought”

You ignore Yu’s low, impressed whistle and take a second to weigh each word she’s spat. Then, you offer a gentle smile.

“Comparing works of literature, particularly when composed in two different languages and centuries apart, is awfully subjective. But sure, I will bite. The Aeneid, the Illiad and the Odyssey are all written in dactylic hexameter but I would argue that, in general, Homeric poetry is just not as cohesive, not as harmonious. The Aeneid is briefer and still, it manages to evoke both Homeric epics beautifully. We can’t hold Virgil accountable for the fact that Homer came first, can we? You’re focused on the wrong comparison anyway, you should’ve asked me to pick between Virgil and Ovid”

Shoko’s giggle is sweet enough to dim Utahime’s deep scowl. She kisses her shoulder and whispers something about knowing when to admit defeat, chocolate eyes never leaving your figure.

“Requiescat in pace” Yu sticks his tongue out and effectively dodges the eraser being thrown back at him, boyish grin making his eyes glimmer with malice.

“Would you like to sit?” literal honey trickles from Suguru’s relaxed tone, a closed hand now resting on his cheek, index finger pressing to the temple. He looks absolutely unfazed by his friends’ antics, much more focused on studying you instead.

“Suguru!” Utahime’s hiss is certainly rewarding, just not enough to convince you to accept what suddenly feels like an offer there is no turning back from.

Right as you’re about to speak, Satoru straightens up in his seat and you can no longer resist the urge to glance in his direction. You’ve heard about his eyes before, the not so quiet gossiping involving the group always surrounding him the most. He truy does look as perfect as they say, disturbingly so actually, so much that he instantly reminds you of Aether, son of Erebus and Nyx, personification of the sky.

The way he smiles makes you take a tentative step back for good measure: whatever element balances the blessing of such ethereal beauty, must be extraordinary in its darkness.

“Cubitum eamus?”

It’s impossible to blink back your surprise, one that has the corners of his lips curl further up. The boyish inflection of his voice doesn’t pair well with the wicked glint in that otherworldly, challenging stare.

Suguru lets out a good natured huff, Nanami’s scoff sounds much more sincere. It gives you the courage not to succumb to the blood rushing to your cheeks, undesired heat making your insides churn with sincere revulsion.

“Malo mori quam foedari” you murmur it as a prayer to keep yourself safe and don’t spare any of them a single other glance as the urge to get out of the room finally becomes unbearable.

Some would find the deviant laughter that follows you all the way outside of the building amusing, perhaps even satisfying. But all it does is leave a rancid taste in your mouth and as you make your way back to your dorm, you can’t help but feel as if you have taken one too many steps toward something you really don’t want to have anything to do with.

Satoru watches your upside down figure walk away, chair leaned back as he throws his head back in laughter.

“Suguru” he smiles, the tip of his tongue running along his upper lip while he still eyes the wooden doors that have swallowed you “she’d be fun to play with”

“You’re repulsive” Kento’s eyes run along the page he’s so focused on reading, disapproving frown by now a habit more than a timely reaction.

“I think we should get to have a little fun” Shoko ignores her sister’s glare as she sweetly mirrors Gojo’s smile, hand warm as the pads of her fingers sneak underneath Utahime’s skirt to soothe her irritation.

“Let me have her first” Satoru feels ignited as he meets his best friend’s gaze, he recognizes the dimmed flame beginning its faint flicker within it “let me ruin her just enough for you”

Suguru knows he’s lying. All Satoru does is take and take until there’s nothing left, he consumes everything he touches way before anyone else has the chance of getting their fair share. He lives for himself and is still arrogant enough to like that Geto can see right through his bluffs, gets a twisted pleasure from pushing his limits more and more to find out when the wire will snap.   

Sure, he’ll let him have it his way yet again. Suguru doesn’t appreciate rush, knows that true corruption takes time and, boy, does he have all the time in the world.

index vocabulorum:

requiescat in pace - rest in peace

cubitum eamus? - will you go to bed with me?

malo mori quam foedari - death rather than dishonor

[eggdrawsthings]

Hi! I wanted to ask a question and I wasn’t sure if it was too personal or not so just ignore this is you’d rather not answer, but I was wondering if you went to art school or got a degree in it? I really want to start learning and maybe one day start a career in animation and wasn’t sure whether I should spend time and resources getting a degree. I know it’s going to be different for everybody and nothings a guarantee for this field but since I love your style and technical skill I was curious whether you had done that and what were your thoughts on it or if you are self-taught.

Hey anon! No worries it's all good!

Ig I should quickly go through my art journey so you can have an overall look of why I went to art school lol.

So I'm from Vietnam. I think back in 2013 I went to a small art school in Singapore (they were the only one that gave me a scholarship). My major was 3D modeling actually, but during my final year, I realized I only wanted to draw characters for animation. I could already draw decently, so I just read The Silver Way book and built a character design portfolio on my own during this time. I was lucky I got a job as a concept artist at a small animation studio there so I learned a lot from the job. I also did a lot of self-learning and took Woulter Tulp's Expressive Character class on Schoolism.

Then after 3-ish years of working, I got sick of the tiny and dying animation industry in Singapore. I wanna do sth more than just preschool shows and I was severely underpaid lmao. So I quit my job and took the MA VisDev program at AAU. It's a little more affordable cuz u can do 1 year online and the second year on-site. The reason I went to this school even tho i could just take a VisDev class online was cuz i need the visa so i can try to break into the industry in the US.

Now back to your question. Is art school a must? No. Should you still take it? Maybe, depends on your situation. If you can afford it then hell yeah by all means. Art school is great cuz you have professors and peers to help guide you along the way so you won't get lost while trying to figure out your shit. And to have a few years just experimenting and focusing on art is a great experience. Plus you can make a lot of meaningful connections in school and it will help you a long way after you grad. But if you have to go into debt to go to art school, then don't. There are places like Schoolism, CGMA, and Warrior Art Camp where you can pick what class and from whom you wanna learn. If you are not from the US and wanna break into the industry here like me however, then yeah getting a degree is a better bet cuz you can use the student visa and OPT to hopefully get a job here (it's still very very hard tho ngl im struggling rn as we speak lmao). Also, you need a BA to work overseas so there's that too. The hard truth is studios prefer to hire locally than some rando from somewhere else and have to wait for them to relocate and shit, (unless you are exceptionally good and they'd do anything to have you, but that is super rare lol).

Even though I did go to art school, I have to say most of my skills are from self-study. It requires a lot of self-discipline but I'm pretty much obsessed with drawing and I draw everyday so it's not a problem for me. But my friend is not good at that, so she found art school/classes helped her better cuz there are deadlines and instructors to help guide her to reach her goal. So it depends on your learning style tbh.

There is this chart that can help you consider your options. Im sorry it's a very long answer, cuz yes everyone's experience is different. Feel free to drop me another ask if you still have anymore questions tho ^^

Edit: I must also add, though there are online classes and ways to self-learn animation,I do think it only truly benefit you if you know exactly what you wanna do in this industry (for example I already knew i wanna become a character designer for 2d/3D animation specifically so any books/classes i took I tailored it to fit my goal). If you are unsure what you wanna do, then maybe even a cheap animation course will do better, and then you can take extra online classes on the side.

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

I'd love to see your take on a Harry Potter and MHA crossover. Basic premise is that the golden trio goes to Japan and somehow gets entwined with UA/Class 1A. Whether they're there after fourth/fifth year in order to train or after the war ends to recuperate, or some option I haven't thought of is up to you; I would request that they're not much older than 17/18 though. Pairing is up to you too

“I can’t fucking believe this,” Ron snapped as he dropped the box from his arms to the ground.

“Can’t you?” Hermione asked in exhaustion. The woman glanced at where Harry was sitting on the couch, face blank.

“From Snape? Yes. From… from everyone else…” Ron trailed off. Hermione wanted to cry.

Harry had collapsed a few weeks into their sixth year. No one knew why, and the panic it caused when he woke up but was so… blank. Emotionless and having to be directed by people almost caused riots to break out.

Testing revealed Snape to be at fault. Apparently he discovered Harry was a Horcrux and was ‘worried about Voldemort using the connection’ according to him. The potion was used to ‘lessen the risks’.

People celebrated this. Even when Bill revealed that actually there were rituals used to remove Horcruxes that a Dark Wizard like Snape should know about thanks to his potions mastery, they still said Snape did his best. Dumbledore even came out agreeing with Snape and saying the ritual couldn’t work since he didn’t know about it.

Others heavily disagreed and the riots actually started.

It just kept getting worse when people began talking about how to continue the Potter line even with Harry in his state. Girls began volunteering to carry his child.

They’d had to run when there was noise about taking Harry from Hogwarts for that purpose. Remus helped along with Flitwick to get him out, and they booked it to Japan to seek sanctuary which was granted.

Among the Order, Remus and the Weasley family had been the only ones to protest the treatment from the Wizarding World to Harry. They were all furious of what had happened. Hermione could only feel rage when she remembered how they treated him after the potion, how Snape was praised. It was disgusting.

“Harry,” she said to the motionless teenager. “Do you want to discuss UA?” She waited but no answer came from the teen.

“We’ll find a cure,” Ron told her. “We’ll save him,” he said thickly. “The Tokoyami family are some of the best potioneers in the world and we’re going to be in a class with one of them. We can save him.”

“Please be true,” Hermione whispered.

She didn’t know what she would do in the end.

-

Class 1A was alerted to their new classmates the morning they arrived. No one quite knew how to react, still reeling from everything that had happened the week before. A group of disgruntled former classmates from Aldera had banded together after the Sports Festival to ‘expose the Quirkless Cheat’ and posted various videos about Midoriya.

Ochako privately wondered how the actual fuck they didn’t expect that people would be more upset by the horrific bullying De- Midoriya faced then by him being formerly diagnosed Quirkless. False Negatives existed! Hell it was public last year that Mount Lady was as one!

Bakugou was thrown out of the class by Aizawa who’d made a public apology to Midoriya regarding his actions. He explained how he’d made the wrong conclusions based on his own experience, and why. Ochako felt the forgiveness to the teacher was kind of to easy but that was her own thoughts. Bakugou went right to 1C with the students who were all waitlisted for the hero course. According to the gossip none had proved themselves worthy of moving up yet with one girl, Togeike or the such, being expelled for several attempts at sabatoging the various projects support students had for the hero course. Bakugou took her spot to his fury.

Then Mineta was actually expelled, full on, after some shady stuff was uncovered by other people boldened by the expose on Bakugou.

And then Ojiro left. He said he had been blindsided by how dishonourable UA was with who they let in and he would not stand for it. The three empty seats now though were being filled by transfers. It caused some issue with 1C, despite the reminders none had met the qualifications yet for physicality or mentality.

Ochako looked up as the door opened to let in three foreigners, her eyes caught by a blank faced teen with the greenest eyes she’d ever seen. Her breathe almost hitched as she stared at him in wonder.

He was beautiful. Just simply beautiful.

What was their story?

[thistransient]

It is that time of year again, time for the birthday reflection.

We are getting real deep into 'not sure what I'm doing, cause I never thought I'd live this long' territory here lads. 'Don't compare yourself to other people, compare yourself to your former self', they say. Yeah, fair, in that case I'm doing extremely well, but unless I wear that shirt saying 'I used to be much worse', it does not help me much in social situations. (The kind where people ask with great concern exactly what it is that you do.)

I had more dissolving-friendship anguish than usual this year but I will say it felt like it was necessary to really assess my values and self-esteem, and create a space for change. I left my comfort zone, went to India twice and was rewarded with making a good friend (who never gets my postcards, idk if Taiwan Post sees "IND-" and sends them all straight to Indonesia, or if India Post is to blame here) , decided to put my Mandarin to the test by taking local community college courses (still doing okay in the second semester, the worst is the first day when the teacher asks with much trepidation whether I speak Chinese and I'm like otherwise I would not be here??). At some point I got used to doing visa runs and my quest for getting an ARC again went on the backburner, which I suppose is well enough because at this point I'm increasingly interested in obtaining dual citizenship (given the situation in the US for trans people), and the barriers are lower elsewhere.

I saw an illustration once that had a plant in a pot putting out leaves, captioned 'not moving, but growing', and I feel like I have been doing some stationary growing, but at some point one also outgrows the pot. On one hand I finally established a sort of livable routine and reasonable mental health status, amassed a plant collection (mostly from seeds + fruits), taken up the hobby of Postcrossing, and have been on HRT for 6 years now (yay), on the other I do not want to live on visa runs, take night classes and reside in a moldy shoebox apartment forever. (I am here because I was lazy about looking for housing but the hostel I was in was getting unbearable, so when my ex-friend was moving into the building and there was another room open, I decided to settle even though it did not meet the accommodation requirements I told myself I'd stand by. After all, it was only a 5 month rental contract. 3 years later, I suppose I've saved a lot of money on rent but at what cost... Hanging out in Singapore with my friend who has significantly higher standards (and budget) reignited my aspirations for more square footage, less mildew, and no scooters revving maniacally directly below my window, but can it defeat my foreshortened sense of future and tendency to catastrophise?). If I move somewhere more 'legit' shall we say, I will almost certainly need to sign a year contract, and hell if I know what I'm doing in the next six months even.

Of course I have this old unquenchable instinct down there which still says 'when in doubt, put everything in storage and go backpacking indefinitely! that'll fix you!' and I start to wonder if the brief-but-passionate escapist openness of the sort of people who frequent hostels might fill the social void with more instant gratification than slowly trying to find satisfying community amongst settled people, especially as a foreigner in an otherwise homogeneous society (where at first glance almost everyone assumes you can't speak the language). Do I need to leave in order to realise where I really want to be? Didn't I try that before, already? Is the real test this time whether I can dig in my heels and NOT uproot everything like a feral javelina?

Whatever I end up doing with this year of my life, I suppose it'll be interesting.